Fortitude
by Ingie
Summary: Nearly fifteen years after Ocarina of Time, Link and Zelda struggle to preserve political peace after their controversial marriage. But when disaster strikes, Zelda finds herself facing far more than political turmoil...
1. Chapter I

**AN: **Hello, and thank you for taking the time to read my story! Before you begin, I would like to stress that this is categorized as a drama/romance a for a reason, since it mainly focuses on Link and Zelda as they face various trials together - Zelda much more so than Link, since it's told from her point of view. So if you're not fond of drama and romance, you might want to avoid this one. I would also like to add that this is by no means a cute, fluffy fanfic. It is a longer, darker story, and quite depressing at times, but I wouldn't necessarily call it a tragedy. Rest assured I have placed much thought and time into creating a solid, interesting plot that will hopefully keep you reading to the last word!

Oh, and please, _please_ review! Feedback is very important to me, as it helps me approach my writing from different angles. And it keeps me inspired!

**Full synopsis:** Nearly fifteen years have passed since Link and Zelda sealed Ganondorf away and restored peace to Hyrule. Now married, the two of them lead a happy but stressful life together. Zelda, now Queen and sole ruler of Hyrule, fights to maintain alliances that have weakened since her marriage, while Link, Prince Consort of Hyrule, struggles to gain proper recognition from the High Council so he may one day take the throne at his wife's side.

These issues soon prove to be the least of their troubles, however, when Zelda's former fiancé, King Ashton of the kingdom Vandelius, returns with a vengeance. Aided by mysterious dark forces, Ashton aims to take back not only his former bride but her kingdom as well...

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**Fortitude**

Chapter I

_Darkness._

_Ceaselessly it stretched before me, surrounded me. Permeating the core of my being, it clogged my mind, choked my spirit. I groped for an anchor, something to keep me grounded…_

_Then, gradually, the darkness began to clear._

_Two orange glows materialized in the distance, their mirrored forms sharpening into torches. At last my eyes could adjust, and in the feeble light I observed my surroundings. _

_I stood in a dark corridor, surrounded by rough, dirty walls. A flash of silver caught my eye, glinting weakly in the torchlight…_

_Metal bars. Rusted with age, they lined the walls on either side, then faded into darkness beyond the torches. In that moment I realized…_

_I stood in a dungeon._

_Unnaturally thick air filled my lungs, and a mysterious chill clung to me, seeping deep into my flesh. I found it difficult to breath, difficult to think…_

_Wearing only a simple nightdress, I shakily stepped forward, aware of the dirt and grime that clung to my feet—_

_Then I froze, listening. Low, unnatural groans began to drift from the cells, a sound I knew all too well._

_Through my peripheral vision I spied dark shapes slowly rising to their feet. A twisted need to stare the figure directly in the eyes seized me, but I resisted. I knew the consequences that would follow._

_Hurriedly I pressed on, passing the cells as quickly as my stiff body allowed. The groans followed my every step, and I found them increasingly difficult to ignore. My confidence grew as I neared the torches, accompanied by relief when I spied a metal door at the far end of the corridor. I broke into a run, desperate to leave the cursed place…_

_A terrible, unnatural scream suddenly tore through the silence, ringing through my ears and snuffing out whatever warmth I'd retained. I pressed my hands to my ears, vaguely aware of my own cries. My body slammed into the bars of another cell, sagging against them as I gasped for air._

Make it stop, make it stop…

_What felt like an eternity passed before the scream finally broke off, its last eerie note echoing into silence. _

_Slowly my hands left my ears to grip the bars of the cell I'd crashed into. I leaned my forehead against the cold iron, catching my breath as my fear gradually passed._

_Another quieter sound drew my attention, and with a start I realized it came from within that very cell. Quickly I released the bars and stepped away, listening warily. _

_But it wasn't a groan. It sounded more like breathing—like panting. Someone in that cell—a man, by the sound of it—still struggled to catch his breath._

A man? Here among ReDeads?

_Caution and concern both warred within me, but the latter feeling quickly prevailed. I peered into the cell, and as my eyes adjusted I could just make out the prisoner's dark, masculine shape._

_Stripped from the waist up, he sat against the far wall. His arms stretched high above his head, suspended by chains, and his body sagged tiredly beneath them. His head fell limp toward his chest, his face hidden by dirty, overgrown hair. Save for the rise and fall of his chest, he sat completely still. Save for his shuddering breaths, he remained completely silent._

_He made a pitiful sight. Sympathy swept through me, urging me to look closer. I gripped the bars and opened my mouth to speak…_

_A metallic _creak_ cut me off, and with a gasp I turned to face the far door._

_There a dark figure emerged, materializing from the darkness beyond the open doorway. Tall and cloaked, he carried an __ominous air._

"_Who are you?" I addressed him sharply. "What is this place?"_

_He strode forward in silence, as though he hadn't seen or heard me at all._

"_Stay away!" I shouted, taking a few steps back. "Tell me why I'm here!"_

_Again he did not respond. I watched, dumbfounded, as he paused before the prisoner's cell and drew out a rusted key. I looked to the prisoner, watching as he slowly lifted his head…_

_Shock jolted my senses, tearing a gasp from my parted lips. For a moment I could only stare wide-eyed at the prisoner's exhausted, familiar face. Blue eyes, still so beautiful yet now… haunted. That rebellious spark I knew and loved had all but faded, strained with misery and fatigue._

"_Link…" I grabbed the bars, momentarily forgetting the cloaked figure. "Link, it's me!"_

_He gave no response._

_I grit my teeth and whirled about, snatching at the stranger's arm._

"_What have you done to him, you—" _

_My hand passed right_ _through_ _him. _

What…?

_Bewilderedly I turned back to the cloaked figure, but he hadn't even flinched. He acted as though I didn't exist…_

Unless…

_I closed my eyes with a rush of understanding. Of course. It was all a dream—a nightmare. I existed as a mere observer. No matter how much I desired it, I could not interact with anyone, and I could not alter the events I witnessed._

_Relief surged through me but quickly vanished as the stranger unlocked the cell and stepped inside. I grasped the bars, heart pounding as I watched him approach his prisoner. Link's head lolled to the side and rested wearily against his arm. Eyes half open, he appeared barely conscious._

_The figure grabbed Link's chin and jerked his face closer. I strained to hear his words but caught only sharp, indiscernible whispers before he roughly pulled away. Link sank back against the wall, staring ahead with blank eyes._

_After rummaging in his robes, the stranger then reached up and clamped a pair of shackles around Link's wrists. Then he unlocked those suspending Link's arms. Link let them fall limp against the floor, his shackles hitting the stone with a dull metallic _thud_. He made no move to escape but sat there motionless, as though nothing had changed. _

_His captor promptly tucked away his key._

"_Get up," he ordered gruffly. _

_Link did not move._

"_I said get _up_."_

_Again Link refused. Whether rebelliousness or exhaustion made him disobey, I could not tell. _

_Aggravated, the stranger bent down and snatched Link's elbow, jerking him to his feet and shoving him forward. Link stumbled but managed to walk out of his cell. His chains dragged along the ground, rattling with his every step._

_The cell door clanged shut. Anxiously I followed them, painfully aware of a growing sense of foreboding._

_Then suddenly I stumbled, somehow unable to lift my own feet. Some mysterious force weighed them down, as though I wore invisible iron boots. Link and his captor moved on ahead, and helplessly I watched them pass through the doorway. _

"_No…no, wait!"_

_I dragged myself forward, desperate to catch up…_

"_Link—Link, I'm here!"_

_But I never made it, not before Link's captor had slammed the door behind him. I grabbed the knob only seconds later…_

_It would not turn. _

_Panic rose within me. _

"_Let me through!" I cried, pounding my fists against the door. "What are you doing to him!"_

_Nothing happened._

"_Don't you dare hurt him!" I screamed. "Don't you touch__him!"_

_The air thickened; I gasped for breath. _

"_No, no, please… Link! Link!"_

_Then there was darkness…overwhelming darkness…_

"_Liiiink!" _

"Zelda?"

My eyes flew open.

There he was, the same face from my dream, but the dirt and grime—and the tortured look in eyes—had gone. His gaze held mine, clear and focused, and worry lined his handsome features.

"Zelda," he said again, stroking my hair away from my sweaty face. "Sweetheart, you were crying… Are you all right?"

I gazed up at him, caught somewhere between the nightmare and reality. The cold atmosphere I'd left lingered in my mind; my body remained stiff with fear…

_Zelda,_ Link's voice echoed through my thoughts, _please say something…_

His warmth flowed through our telepathic bond, breaking through my trance. I sat up in a rush of need, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face against his shoulder. He sighed with relief, holding me close as he shifted into a sitting position.

"You're trembling," he murmured, rubbing my back. "What's got you so shaken?"

"My dream," I whispered. "I saw you in that awful prison again…"

"The same dream?" I felt his surprise through the bond. "Are you sure?"

I nodded against his shoulder.

"But this time…I saw a man…" I paused, struggling to recall his image. "He was…hooded and cloaked… He forced you out of your cell…"

"He forced me _out_ of my cell?"

I pulled away to meet his gaze, my hands gripping his bare shoulders. "He forced you into another room… I—I wanted to follow, but I couldn't, and I… I knew something terrible was going to happen… I wanted so badly to help you, but I couldn't—"

"Zelda, darling," he spoke over me, taking my face in his hands. "You're safe now—we both are. Everything's all right."

"No, you don't understand—it's always so real, and…and there's always such a strong sense of foreboding. Link, I…" I looked him in the eyes, forcing myself to speak the words, "…I think it's a premonition."

He considered me a moment, then breathed a quiet sigh. I sensed his unease through our bond, despite his efforts to conceal it.

"Then we'll work through it," he finally said, his voice soft. "Just as we always have."

"But it scares me, Link," I whispered. "If anything ever happened to you, I'd…"

I trailed off when he leaned in to kiss me softly.

"Nothing will happen to me," he murmured.

"You don't know that," I argued. "If it is a premonition then something will happen to you…"

"I know you're having these dreams for a reason," he replied. "And when the time comes for us to act, you will know."

"But what if I don't?" I whispered. "What if—"

"Shh, darling," he said gently, shaking his head. "No good will come of fretting over what-ifs, certainly not at this hour. Right now you need to sleep…"

I lowered my gaze and sighed, aware of his eyes on my face.

"I don't mean to dismiss you," he added, stroking my cheek.

"I know," I mumbled. "It's okay."

"Come here," he murmured, pulling me closer.

I came willingly, burying my face against his throat while he sank back against the pillows.

_Don't worry,_ he soothed, kissing my forehead. _Everything will be all right. I promise._

I sighed, knowing he couldn't make such a promise. But he was partly right—there was nothing more to say about it. There had been no recent signs of danger, no threats made against him. If I had indeed seen a premonition, surely I would know how to protect him when the time came…

Slowly Link ran his hand up and down my back, but I could sense him slipping back into sleep. I closed my eyes, reveling in his touch until his hand came to a stop. Only a few minutes passed before his quiet, rhythmic breathing lulled me back into a dreamless sleep.

**xxxxxxx**

"A council meeting. What a lovely way to start the day."

A cold March morning had dawned, its white light pouring into our bedroom as Link and I readied ourselves for the day ahead. Every morning we rose as Link and Zelda, husband and wife of nearly two happy but stressful years. By the time we left our chambers, however, we bore something far heavier than names. I became Zelda Ariadne Harkinian, sovereign Queen of Hyrule. Link wore the lesser title of Prince Consort, and he served as General of the Hylian Royal Army. Unbeknownst to our people, Link and I bore additional titles—sacred titles bestowed upon us by the arch-goddesses themselves. They had named me the Sage of Time, and Link the Hero of Time. Together, using our extraordinary gifts and talents, we lived solely to defend our beloved kingdom.

As royalty, Link and I had naturally reserved one of the castle suites to ourselves. In actuality we owned the entire Eastern Wing for personal use, but we had no need for so many rooms. Our bedroom alone was larger than any of the places Link had lived growing up. Wanting to make him feel at home in the castle after our marriage, I had furnished the room with elegant but simple bureaus, wardrobes, and chairs of beautiful mahogany. Rich ivy green cushions accented the chairs, and a thick comforter of the same color covered our bed—the centerpiece of the room. Nothing but cream-colored paint coded the walls and high ceiling. Our bedroom appeared simple by aristocratic standards, but I had decorated it with Link's simpler taste in mind. He detested garnishes like patterned wallpaper and velveteen throw pillows, and I could certainly do without them.

That wasn't to say our bedroom was plain. Several pictographs had been scattered about, and beautiful paintings adorned the walls. On the floor stretched a gorgeous Gerudo rug—a wedding gift from our dear friend, Nabooru, Queen of the Gerudo. But perhaps the loveliest features of our bedroom were the glass doors leading out to our wide balcony which overlooked the gardens.

Joined to the bedroom was our sitting room, furnished with a table, matching chairs, a large bookshelf, a sofa, and matching armchairs. My harp stood in a far corner, not far from the grand fireplace. The walls had been painted a hushed blue, and complementary white and blue cushions adorned the furniture. Another Gerudo rug, one almost as beautiful as our bedroom rug, covered the wooden floor.

Also joined to the bedroom was a smaller unused room, one Link and I hoped to eventually make a nursery. Finally there was the master bath, conveniently located between the bedroom and the sitting room, accessible from either through separate doors.

Two years ago I had worried about Link's transition to living in the castle with me. But we had made these rooms our home. They had quickly become my sanctuary, as long as he shared them with me.

I sat down at my vanity, eyeing Link's reflection in the mirror.

"If you were king you'd have to meet with them nearly every day, you know."

"Yes, but they'd be my advisors," he countered, "and not the judges they are now. Plus I'd be with you." He cast me a smile through the mirror.

I smiled back sweetly, pretending to be coy as I brushed my hair.

.

The day's council meeting differed from the meetings I usually attended. The ministers weren't so much advising as they were evaluating—evaluating Link, that was.

About five months after he and I married, my father had passed away from a long-term illness. The High Council had urged me to take the throne as soon as possible, and I had been coronated that same month. Link had not been coronated with me; the Council had denied him the crown.

The Council's reluctance had stemmed from their knowledge of Link's "common" background. Having been an orphan all his life, Link knew nothing of his origins. Even his surname remained a mystery—he had adopted mine the day we married. His military service had earned him knighthood status within the Hylian court, but that still placed him one level beneath lordship. A knight could marry into nobility if the opportunity presented itself, but marrying into royalty was out of the question.

For centuries, Hyrulean law required a princess be wed only to a prince or, in some rare cases, a high nobleman to preserve the "purity" of the royal lineage. Courtship between a princess and a commoner was strictly forbidden, even if that commoner had somehow achieved noble status. Needless to say, my courtship with Link had created a great deal of controversy. My father and the Council had debated the matter of our engagement for weeks before settling upon an agreement. It was decided that, once Link and I married, he would remain Prince Consort until the Council deemed him worthy of kingship.

Other sovereign queens had ruled before, but I was one of few. The Hyrulean monarchy was meant to be ruled by a king and a queen, side by side, each with their own duties. A lone monarch must bear twice the amount of responsibility, and because I lacked familiarity with many kingly duties, this had proven quite challenging for me.

For months Link had watched me bear my responsibilities alone. Every day he struggled to earn the Council's approval, striving to take his rightful place at my side, but to no avail. So far it had been a long and frustrating road for the both of us.

Following our marriage, the Council held monthly meetings to evaluate Link's conduct. If they found no fault for three consecutive meetings, he could take the next step toward kingship. Unfortunately, he had never come close to achieving this. The Council always found some excuse to hold him back.

Link's chances appeared slim, but in reality he held about half the Council's support. The opposed ministers offered increasingly weak arguments to support their position, especially since their opposition clearly branched from an old-fashioned prejudice.

"I think it will go well today," I said cheerfully, selecting a pair of earrings from my drawer.

Link cast me a cynical glance as he fastened the cuff on his sleeve.

"I'm sure they'll find some reason to deny me," he said. "They always do."

"There's no need to be pessimistic. You did so well in the last meeting."

He crossed the room to stand behind my chair.

"I'm not being pessimistic," he replied, leaning down to kiss my cheek. "I'm simply speaking the truth."

"Well, they'll have to see the error of their ways eventually," I retorted, turning my head to attach the second earring. "Otherwise they're just fools."

He left my side with a quiet laugh.

"I certainly hope you have no fools on your Council. Though sometimes I do wonder…"

I sighed, knowing precisely whom Link referred to.

Lord Vasilis Durithan was a well respected minister who had long served as Minister of Foreign Affairs. A traditional man, Vasilis remained a fervent believer in preserving the "purity" of the royal bloodline. Introducing Link's common blood into the royal line had left him outraged and paranoid. Ever since Link and I were children, Vasilis had always disapproved of our friendship and scolded me for spending so much time with Link. Years later he had opposed our courtship and fervently objected to our engagement. He had claimed Link would taint the pure bloodline, alienate the kingdom, and anger the gods. My father, who had respected Link a great deal, threatened to remove Vasilis from the Council if he did not learn to control himself. Today, Vasilis still fought to ensure Link remained nothing more than my consort.

"Vasilis isn't the only reason you haven't been coronated, Link; you know that."

"Yes, I know," he muttered. "But he is the most opposed to it."

I sighed, watching as he gazed out the closed balcony doors. His circlet, a simple gold piece featuring a small engraved Triforce, still lay on the nearby bureau. I picked it up and went to him, smoothing his hair back to set the circlet in place. Lowering my hands, I smiled as his hair fell over the circlet and around his eyes.

"There," I said softly, my fingertips brushing his face. "Handsome as always."

He gave me a dry look, then leaned in to kiss me—just as a timid knock sounded from our chamber doors.

"My Lord and Lady?" a muffled voice called.

Link pulled away with a sigh.

"Come, love," he said gently, "the scrutinizers await."

**xxxxxxx**

The Council Chamber was a spacious room featuring tall windows and a vaulted ceiling. Rich blue tapestries bearing Hyrule's royal crest hung in rows of three along opposite walls, giving the room a simple yet sophisticated look. A large stone table occupied the center of the room, accompanied by nine elaborately carved chairs—one for each council member and one for myself. The ends of the table stretched wide enough for two chairs, but ever since my mother passed away there had been no need for two. Both my father and I had served as sole monarchs and attended council meetings alone. The second chair was brought out on certain occasions, such as today, when Link was permitted to sit at my side.

As usual, the ministers had already gathered before Link and I entered. Reverently they rose from their chairs while two guards closed the double doors behind us. Link and I separated, approaching the head of the table from opposite sides. We joined again before our own chairs, standing side by side.

"Councilors," I greeted them with a nod, as did Link. "Please be seated."

They obliged, taking their seats as Link I took ours. All eight ministers had attended, sitting in rows of four on either side. On one side sat Lord Pierson, Minister of Imperial Affairs; Lord Timothus, Minister of State Affairs; Lady Renae, Minister of Religious Affairs; and next to Link sat Lord Kinsley, Minister of Military Affairs and Link's personal advisor.

Ten years ago, at the age of fourteen, Link had become a soldier in the Hylian Royal Army. Inexperience and emotional conflict had given him a difficult start for the first few months. However, the late Captain Shayne Anders had taken an immediate interest in Link's skills and helped him understand what it meant to be a soldier. Link's true potential soon began to show, and Captain Shayne promoted him to Lieutenant of the Fifth Company after only two years of service. He also brought Link before Lord Kinsley, who proceeded to test Link's skills. After only a few meetings, Kinsley had proclaimed Link a natural-born strategist and military genius.

Nearly one year later, Captain Shayne was killed on the battlefield, and my father, who had been quite impressed with Link, offered him Shayne's position. Link was unusually young to be Captain, but he accepted my father's offer. Less than one year later, war befell Hyrule once again—and lasted nearly five years. General Keiton, leader of the military and second only to my father, had lost his life mere months before the war ended. Once again my father had turned to Link, and in the midst of war and uncertainty, Link became General of the Royal Army at age twenty-one. It was unheard of, but Link had not faltered, and Hyrule claimed victory within the next two months.

After our marriage, Link had retained his position as General, simply because a Prince Consort held so little political power. Only a full-fledged king or queen could command the Royal Army. So because Link's status was lower than mine, I actually controlled the military. However, because I had no military training or experience, I had kept Link as my general and unofficially handed military command over to him. I knew this choice put me in a vulnerable position, but I trusted Link with my life. Lord Kinsley was always ready and willing to advise him, so Link wasn't forced to shoulder the burden alone.

On the opposite side of the table sat Lord Matteus, Minister of the Treasury; Lord Vasilis, Minister of Foreign Affairs; Lady Elena, Minister of Judicial Affairs; and beside me sat Impa, my childhood caretaker who now served as my personal advisor and Council Dignitary. Impa's duties involved keeping the ministers in check and informing me of their activities. She was, essentially, the bridge between me and the Council.

"Let us begin," I said. "Mistress Impa, if you would, please."

She nodded and rose from her chair. As the only known survivor of the supposedly lost Sheikan race, Impa's striking appearance aided her intimidating demeanor. She dressed simply, usually in dark, form-fitting clothes, and she always pulled her snow-white hair back into a short tail. Her most notable feature, however, were her blood red eyes—something all Sheikah inherited. Despite her appearance, Impa was the closest I had to a mother, since my own had died shortly after my birth. I loved her dearly, as she did me.

"As you all know," she began, "we have gathered for our monthly discussion regarding Prince Link's eligibility for kingship." She then sat down and folded her hands. "Lord Pierson," she addressed the minister, "what have you to say on the matter?"

He shifted slightly and cleared his throat.

"I have no complaints," he said. "The prince makes a daily appearance in court, and he properly greets our honored guests with her Majesty. He has also worked with Sir Ian to improve castle security. Prince Link is very much involved with the activities occurring both within and without the castle, and so, as I've said, I have no complaints."

"Thank you, Lord Pierson," Impa nodded. "And you, Lord Timothus?"

"I, too, have no complaints," the minister replied. "His Highness has continued to show great concern for the citizens of Hyrule. As I've already stated in our last meeting, he has effectively used his limited power to aid the poor and the homeless." Timothus shrugged lightly. "Frankly, I would like nothing more than to see what he could accomplish as a full-fledged monarch."

"I agree with Lord Timothus," Lady Renae spoke up. "Prince Link has demonstrated his worth in more ways than one. The absence of a king has put pressure on Hyrule's monarchy for months now, and I believe coronating his Highness would only strengthen our reputation—"

"Speak for yourself, Minister," Lord Vasilis interrupted. "The prince may do a fine job within his own kingdom, but his conduct outside of Hyrule is still sorely lacking."

Forcing my face to remain neutral, I turned to give Vasilis my attention. I could feel Link's tension as he sat silently beside me, bracing himself for humiliation.

"Recently his Highness traveled to the kingdom of Malchevia to negotiate a trade agreement with King Helmerin," Vasilis continued. "The negotiations failed."

"What?" Link exclaimed, forgetting to control his tone. "You must be mistaken. The negotiations were a success. King Helmerin signed the treaty—"

"And severed it nearly one week ago," Vasilis finished.

Link fell speechless a moment, and the silence, though brief, was deafening.

"Why was I never informed of this?" he inquired.

_Oh no… _

I tensed, suppressing the desire to prevent what Vasilis was about to say.

"It no longer concerned you," Vasilis replied. "King Helmerin made it quite clear he did not wish to negotiate with you again. In fact, we wouldn't have a treaty at all if her Majesty hadn't smoothed things over for you."

I stiffened, closing my eyes as my heart sank. A thick tension had filled the room, and I didn't dare turn my head toward Link.

"…I see," he finally spoke, his voice tight but remarkably controlled. "And did King Helmerin provide any sort of explanation for this sudden change of mind?"

"He claimed you had deceived him," Lord Matteus spoke up, eying Link with disapproval.

"Deceived him? That's… absurd; I did nothing of the sort."

"Clearly you left a bad impression in some way."

"This isn't the first time either," Vasilis contributed. "If you continue to offend the rulers of our neighboring kingdoms, it could jeopardize Hyrule's place within the Alliance."

"Now just a minute," Lord Kinsley spoke. "That's quite an exaggeration, Vasilis; don't you think?"

"I do not," the elder minister snapped. "And, as Minister of Military Affairs, you should be far more concerned, Kinsley."

"That's enough," I said, raising my hand for silence. "Bickering will accomplish nothing, gentlemen; please restrain yourselves."

They exchanged dark looks but settled back against their chairs.

.

Link's chances did not improve as the meeting progressed. The ministers continued to argue over his conduct in various foreign matters. Impa contributed little to the discussion but cast several concerned glances in Link's direction while I struggled to keep everyone in order. Link had fallen silent, and finally he turned to look at me.

_Please end this_,his quiet plea echoed through my mind. I sighed and cleared my throat.

"Councilors," I said, my voice ringing out loudly.

Immediately they fell silent.

"Since you have once again failed to settle on any kind of agreement, I urge you to further explore the issue of foreign affairs. Hopefully, by the next evaluation, you will have settled on some sort of agreement, or at least come to understand each side of this controversy. Mistress Impa will keep me updated on your progress. You are dismissed."

The ministers rose from their chairs, bowed their heads, and quietly filed out of the room. Impa lagged behind, but, knowing Link and I wished to discuss the situation alone, simply placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and left, closing the doors behind her.

Link and I seldom shared an uncomfortable silence, but that moment was definitely one of them. Unable to stand it any longer, I spoke first.

"Link, I—"

"If you're going to clean up my messes," he cut me off, his blue eyes boring into mine, "I would like to know about it."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I just… I didn't have the heart to tell you…"

"You don't have to protect me from the truth, Zelda," he said, his voice quiet. "I'm not a child."

"I know," I replied, holding his gaze. "I know, and I'm so sorry; it was foolish of me."

Link studied me another moment before looking away and rising to his feet.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Zelda," he said wearily, walking toward a nearby window and resting his hands on the sill. "Not only do I have to earn the Council's approval, but the neighboring kingdoms' as well?"

"No," I said softly, going to stand at his side. "No, Link, the neighboring kingdoms do not hold sway over the entire Council."

He sighed and shook his head. "Politics, history, philosophy, etiquette, I've studied it all for years now. I've always done everything that's expected of me, but it will never be enough. _I_ will never be enough."

"Link…" I placed a hand on his shoulder, caressing it briefly. "Look at me."

Slowly he turned, meeting my gaze with dispirited eyes.

"It's been nearly two years since we married," I reminded him gently. "And barely a year has passed since I took the throne. For people so deeply rooted in their old traditional ways, that's not very much time. They are still _adjusting_ to you. To _us_. One day they will realize what a blessing you are to Hyrule. Just give it time..."

He pondered my words before shaking his head.

"Once a commoner, always a commoner," he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "That's how it is for them, Zelda. It's fine that I succeed in the military, but as a king…" he sighed and furrowed his brow. "As a king I will only taint the royal bloodline and destroy Hyrule's grand reputation."

"Link, you know that's nonsense."

"Then what do they fear, Zelda?" he asked, frustration seeping back into his tone. "They hold an undying prejudice over something I can never change. How can I possibly gain their approval when their minds are already closed?"

"You just carry on the way you always have," I soothed, cupping his cheek. "They need _time_, Link."

Again he shook his head.

"Their minds are set," he argued. "Even time won't change that."

"Link…"

My hand left his cheek as he straightened and turned for the door.

"I should go; I'm late enough as it is."

But I caught his hand, causing him to meet my troubled gaze.

"I'm so sorry, Link," I whispered. "If I could make it better I would…"

"I know you would," he soothed. "I don't hold anything against you."

"But I want you to be happy…"

"I am happy…"

"No," I shook my head sadly. "No, you're not."

"I just want to be at your side," he said gently. "Working _with_ you, the way it should be."

"But you are at my side, Link; you're my husband…"

"And I'm thankful for that every day." He sighed and tucked a stray wisp of hair behind my ear. "I just wish I didn't make things so difficult."

"You're not the one making things difficult," I said firmly. "I have never blamed you for any of that nonsense, and I never will." I slipped my arms around his waist and gave him a fond smile. "Believe it or not, I am proud to call you my husband."

He gave me a cynical look, but I caught the hint of an appreciative smile.

"Even when our so-called allies sever age-old treaties because of me?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I murmured, resting my cheek against his chest.

"You're impossible." He sighed and dropped a kiss to the top of my head. _But I do love you._

We slipped back into the hall a few minutes later, supposedly unnoticed. Link reached for my hand and brought it to his lips.

"My Lady," he said, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. It was his formal way of bidding me farewell, a reverent gesture he used only in public.

I smiled and squeezed his fingers, feeling him squeeze back before he dropped my hand and headed off toward the military training grounds. I watched him go, slipping back into my worried state—

A chill suddenly ran down my spine, and instinctively I turned, catching Vasilis watching a short distance away. He quickly turned to walk away, but I had seen the disapproval in his eyes.


	2. Chapter II

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter II

"A letter for you, your Majesty."

I sat in my study, looking through various papers stacked in tidy piles about my desk. Treaties to review, reports to familiarize myself with… I sometimes wondered how long it had been my desk was clear. Or had it ever been clear?

"From whom?" I asked, not bothering to look up.

"King Ashton of Vandelius."

I froze, staring unseeingly at my paperwork. Slowly I willed myself to look up, seeing the neatly folded parchment in the attendant's offered hand. I took it from him, swallowing to wet my dry throat. My hands trembled as I read the familiar handwriting: _To her Majesty, Queen Zelda Ariadne Harkinian of Hyrule._

"Should I summon the Council, your Majesty?" the attendant asked.

"No," I murmured, my eyes still fixed upon the letter. "Bring me Mistress Impa. And I want this kept quiet, do you understand?"

"Yes, your Majesty." Reverently he bowed and left, closing the door behind him.

I sat there in cold, fearful silence, gripping the sealed letter as my heart pounded with dread.

"What could you possibly want?" I whispered aloud. Knowing Ashton, and knowing the past we'd unfortunately shared, I knew it couldn't be anything good.

Vandelius was a prosperous kingdom located south of Hyrule. As part of the Alliance, it was considered an ally of Hyrule, though in reality the two kingdoms' once strong relationship had suffered over the past decade.

Twenty-three years ago, shortly after I was born, King Elithor of Vandelius and my father came to an agreement that strengthened their previously weak alliance. I, the new Princess of Hyrule, and Elithor's four-year-old son, Ashton, were engaged to be married once I turned sixteen. The Council had approved of my father's decision, but many suspected he'd been pressured into the arrangement, since he had been grieving my mother's recent death. He had denied such accusations, however, and kept his promise for nearly sixteen years.

As a child I had never thought much of my engagement; such matters were not yet important to me. Ashton and his parents often visited Hyrule Castle, and Ashton had always seemed polite but distant. Bored, even. For a while, our age difference had prevented him from taking any real interest in me. I was just a little girl in his eyes.

Everything began to change, however, when I entered my thirteenth year. My young mind became filled with silly, naive thoughts of romance, and my body began to develop more desirable feminine traits. Suddenly my handsome fiancé was very much attracted to me, showering me with flattery and extravagant gifts of flowers and jewels, and I was swept away by it all. Ashton had eagerly pushed our relationship into the physical stage, and I, a somewhat shy and innocent princess, had allowed it. The experience had been overwhelming at first, as Ashton would sometimes—though unsuccessfully—pressure me into breaking my vow of chastity. Still, I had convinced myself I was living the romantic life every girl dreamed about. I had been infatuated with Ashton's courteous charms, flattered by his aggressive affections… I had truly believed it was love.

What a fool I had been.

Link, who had been—and remained—my best friend since I was ten years old, had known Ashton was not the man he presented himself to be. He had suspected Ashton of promiscuous behavior and a general disinterest for Hyrulean culture. Link had often tried to warn me of these things, but I had refused to listen. We had argued every time he broached the subject, until he eventually gave up and backed off.

When war befell our kingdom, my father sent me to Vandelius for my own protection. I was fifteen, one year away from becoming Ashton's bride. Though I had not wanted to leave home, I told myself I could begin adjusting to life in Vandelius, since I would live there for many years once Ashton and I married. Ashton, however, had tired of the façade he'd always presented to me, and during my stay I finally saw the deceitful, selfish man he truly was. When the war ended, I returned home broken-hearted, ashamed, and depressed.

The lingering sadness of war had remained in Hyrule upon my return, and so I had spoken of my unpleasant experiences to no one. Eventually, however, as Link and I began to spend more time together, I told him what had happened in Vandelius and apologized for not believing him. Link had long forgiven me, but the fact that I still intended to marry Ashton had frustrated him. I, however, had tried very hard to forget my bleak future and enjoy what precious little time I had left in Hyrule.

This became increasingly difficult to do, however, as Link and I grew closer. Both of us had been quietly suffering from a deep loneliness, and we had found comfort in each other. It took a couple of months, but eventually our friendship secretly grew into a much deeper relationship—one I could call romantic, but I felt the word would cheapen what we had. Where Ashton had resorted to flattery and empty clichés, Link had been his usual sweet and honest self. Where Ashton had been aggressively physical, Link was wonderfully tender and selfless. The feelings Link inspired in me were warm, pure, and lacked any trace of the uncertainty I'd felt with Ashton. Before I had known what was happening, I had fallen in love with Link—_truly_ in love—and the realization had frightened me.

Link had tried to talk about breaking my engagement to Ashton, but I would not hear of it. Such a move could have permanently damaged Hyrule's relationship with Vandelius, perhaps even to the point of war, and I refused to risk my kingdom for my personal desires.

As my sixteenth birthday crept closer, Ashton came to stay in Hyrule a few weeks before the wedding. During that time I found myself trapped within a classic love triangle—one fated to end in tragedy. Things took a turn for the worse when Ashton discovered I was secretly courting another man. He had no proof it was Link, for he had never actually seen us, but it hadn't mattered. Ashton was my royal fiancé—evidence was not required for him expose Link and destroy his reputation, possibly even his life. Stripped of any other options, I was forced to end my relationship with Link.

From that point on, Link and I did not speak to each other. I was too afraid, and he knew I would only reject him. We were miserable, to say the least.

Then finally, on the night of my sixteenth birthday celebration, I followed him into the castle gardens. I had intended to say goodbye to him, to tell him I loved him and put an end to our pain, but Link hadn't given me the chance. He had spoken first, but he did not beg me to take him back. At that point, Link was no longer concerned about us—he was scared for me. Link had accepted our relationship was over, but he was willing to risk his reputation—even his life—to stop me from marrying Ashton.

"_If you won't tell your father the truth about him," _he had told me, _"I will."_

His words had frightened me. Even then, as Captain of the Royal Army, Link had been a well respected man. Nevertheless, he was in no position to make such accusations toward my fiancé. Not only would he have offended Vandelius, but the court would most likely have suspected him of wanting me for himself. His accusation would have forever tarnished his reputation, and, depending on my father's response, could have resulted in dire consequences. I had pleaded with him to stay silent, but Link refused. We arranged that unless I spoke to my father within three days, Link would do it himself.

There had been so many things I wanted to tell him that night, but I was forced to leave him and rejoin the party inside.

Though Link had given me three days, I had feared he would take some noble action prematurely. Thus I went to see my father the following day. I told him about everything—Ashton's lovers, his tendency to become alarmingly aggressive, his lack of interest in Hyrule's culture. My father was stunned; he had still been under the impression that Ashton was a decent man. After I had said everything I wished to share with him, my father had done something I had never seen him do in my entire life—he began to weep.

He admitted that for a long time he had despised me—that he had blamed me for my mother's death. For the first five years of my life, his grief had rendered him unable to feel anything but anger toward me. His feelings had faded in my childhood years, however, and though he'd never known how to show it, he had grown to love me dearly. The only reason he never attempted to end the engagement—and give me the right to choose my own husband—was because he had thought I loved Ashton. He had been amazed at how well the engagement had worked out—seemingly.

Ridden with guilt at the sorrow I'd endured, as well as the misery I'd been willing to submit myself to, my father promised he would end my engagement.

"_He doesn't deserve you_," he had growled. _"I will not stand for this."_

Breaking the engagement had been no simple matter. Ashton had spun a web of lies so thick it had blinded nearly the entire court. The Council had been satisfied with the arrangement, and they were reluctant to undo it. But my father had insisted, and in the end my engagement to Ashton was dissolved. By my father's orders, Ashton was escorted from the castle and forced to return to Vandelius, but not before he'd made a scene. I had watched from a high window, barely able to believe I was finally free of him. The words he'd shouted still rang clearly through my mind:

"_You haven't seen the last of me!"_

A sharp knock jolted me back to the present, making me jump and drop the letter onto my desk.

"Zelda, it's Impa. May I come in?"

"Yes, Impa, please do."

She slipped inside and quickly closed the door before drawing up a chair near my desk.

"Have you read it?"

"I can't do it," I whispered. "Impa, what could he possibly want with us?"

"I imagine this has something to do with his recent coronation."

"You really believe he'd abuse his power like that? After everything?"

"I wouldn't put it past him." She reached for the letter, eyeing the red wax seal. "Shall I read aloud?"

I nodded. "Please."

She broke the seal and unfolded the parchment to read:

.

"_My dearest Zelda,_

"_It is my sincerest hope that you are well, and that this letter reaches you in the best of health. Though I'm sure you are more than curious to know how I've been these last couple years or so, I shan't waste what little time you have rambling on about the past. I would much prefer to address the present, and so I shall._

"_As I'm sure you know, I recently succeeded my late father as King of Vandelius. I understand he signed some sort of peace agreement with your father years ago. Now that both men have passed, the tension between Hyrule and Vandelius feels taut as ever. To help ease this tension, I wish to review the contents of our fathers' negotiations, as I currently find no reason to uphold an agreement I never made._

"_If you wish to maintain peace between our kingdoms, it would be in your best interest to schedule a rendezvous here at Vandelle Castle. It would also be wise to note that I do not, by any means, negotiate with commoners. If one happens to be in your company when you cross the border into my kingdom, I will consider it a deliberate act of disrespect, and the negotiations will not take place. Believe me when I tell you such a turn of events would not bode well for Hyrule._

"_I sincerely look forward to hearing from your Majesty."_

_._

"Signed, Ashton Iladius Regaldi, King of Vandelius," Impa finished, lowering the letter to meet my gaze.

But I was not looking at her. I wasn't looking at anything. All I could see was Ashton's despicable grin as he wrote the letter, relishing each taunting word. For a long, painful moment I sat in icy silence, caught between a storm of fear and rage.

"It's happening, Impa," I whispered, my thoughts drifting back into the past. "He wants to finish what we started."

After my engagement to Ashton had been severed, my father had sent Vasilis and a few other ambassadors to Vandelius in an attempt to amend the situation. They had returned a fortnight later—as it was a fairly long journey to Vandelius—claiming to have avoided war, but they had warned us to be prepared nonetheless.

A few tense but eventless months had passed, and just when I thought the possibility of war had lifted, a village on the southern border was attacked. A declaration of war had followed shortly after, not only from Vandelius but also from Tar Alem, a north-western kingdom and long-time enemy of Hyrule. The two nations had joined forces to wage war against us.

The Retaliation War, as it was later called, had lasted nearly five long and terrible years. The victory had been ours, but without grave casualties. The late General Keiton died just months before the war had ended, and Link had only narrowly escaped death after suffering terrible injuries.

The thought of my kingdom enduring another war like that… It was more than I could bear.

"Now, Zelda," Impa said, laying her hand over mine, "let's not jump to conclusions. He obviously has some underlying motive in this, but he has no reason to stir up war—his Council wouldn't allow it."

I shook my head, unsure of what to say. The Ashton I knew wouldn't back down so easily.

"A rendezvous in Vandelius," Impa murmured, glancing at the letter. "The Council will never approve, and Link certainly won't hear of it."

_Link… _The way Ashton had referred to him in the letter infuriated me. No name, only a vague reference to his background, as though he were some illegitimate acquaintance of mine.

"I don't want him at the meeting," I said softly. There was no knowing what the ministers would say.

"Zelda…"

"I will tell him about it myself."

"You want to make a decision without him?"

"Of course not!" I turned to meet her crimson gaze. "I want to gauge their reactions first, and then I'll discuss it with Link. The final decision will be made tomorrow."

"Fair enough. Shall I have the Council summoned then?"

I nodded and picked up the letter.

"I suppose you'd better," I sighed. "Before the whole castle knows."

**xxxxxxx**

Twenty minutes later I sat at the council table, listening as Impa read Ashton's letter to the ministers. When she had finished, she took her seat and waited while the others digested the information.

"His terms are indeed demanding," Elena's voice broke the silence, "considering the fragility of the situation…"

"Demanding? His terms are outrageous," Kinsley scowled. "Considering the history between our kingdoms, it seems he's forgotten how the Retaliation War ended."

"King Ashton only wishes to rendezvous, to review his father's treaties," Vasilis argued. "We've kept the peace for two years now; let's not throw it away because of personal grudges. We must be _cautious_."

"Ashton is the one who must show caution, Lord Vasilis," I told him. "If he truly wishes to review the treaties in the name of peace, then he should have offered to come here."

"He _threatened_ her Majesty in this letter," Kinsley added. "And he completely disregarded Prince Link. Giving in to his demands would make us weak."

"And refusing them would jeopardize everything," Vasilis countered. "Is that what you want, Lord Kinsley?"

"Enough," I spoke before Kinsley could fuel the argument. "Clearly we must find some sort of compromise."

"Your Majesty, you cannot go to Vandelle Castle," Renae spoke, her face lined with worry. "It is far too dangerous…"

"Agreed," Kinsley said. A few other ministers nodded.

"Ashton certainly won't come here either," Matteus scoffed.

"Perhaps…" Impa spoke slowly, as though pondering aloud. "Perhaps Ashton would agree to meet you at the borderline."

A brief silence fell as we considered her suggestion.

"I find that a reasonable request," I said, nodding at Impa. "Meeting at the borderline would put us on even ground. Since we proposed it, we could offer to prepare the rendezvous site."

The ministers nodded their agreement.

"And what of his Highness?" Kinsley inquired. "He will want to accompany you."

"Then he shall," I said simply.

Some of the ministers exchanged reluctant glances, Vasilis included.

"Your Majesty," he said, "Ashton specifically requested he not be present at this rendezvous."

"I am aware of that, Lord Vasilis," I replied calmly. "But honoring that request would mean dishonoring my husband, which I will not do."

"Your Majesty…" Elena said carefully. "You have traveled without him before…"

"That's not the point," I cut her off. "I will nottolerate anyone dismissing him."

"But Ashton does not recognize your marriage..."

"Then I shall see that he does!"

The ministers fell into an uneasy silence.

"No one has to know Prince Link was forbidden to accompany you, your Majesty," Renae offered gently. "The contents of the letter can be kept secret."

I sighed and shook my head.

"There would still be talk, Lady Renae. Rumor is often worse than fact."

"It's a risk you'll have to take," Vasilis said, impatience darkening his tone. "You cannot afford to bring your personal feelings into this matter."

I met his grey-eyed gaze, struggling to keep my temper in check.

"Anyone who disrespects my husband disrespects me."

Again there was silence, and I knew we had reached an impasse.

"I wish to discuss this matter with my husband before reaching a decision," I finally said. "We will reconvene tomorrow morning for the conclusion. Dismissed."

The ministers rose and filed out of the room, but Impa remained seated beside me. After the last minister had left, I ordered the guards to close the doors. Turning to Impa, I breathed a heavy sigh.

"There's just no way to soften this blow, is there?" I asked her.

"For Link, you mean."

I nodded sadly.

"Things have been stressful enough as it is, and now…" I trailed off with another sigh. "Impa, I worry about him."

A brief, knowing smile tugged at her lips.

"Yes, I can't remember a time when you haven't."

"Something has been bothering him… something he's very afraid of. But he won't talk about it, and I don't know why."

"Have you approached him about it?"

"Of course," I shrugged, "but it doesn't do any good." I rose to my feet, hugging my arms as I went to a nearby window. Outside the world was bare and grey—typical early March weather. "He simply denies anything's wrong and gives me that fake smile."

"It's not like him to keep anything from you."

_That isn't entirely true,_ I wanted to say. Link often chose to bear his burdens alone—he'd done so most of his life, after all. It was in his nature.

"I think I know what's bothering him," I said softly.

Impa remained silent, waiting for me to elaborate.

"I think he fears being… cast out."

"Cast out?" she echoed. "As in an annulment?"

I nodded, still gazing out the window.

"He knows I love him; I know he does. But…" I turned to look at Impa. "I think he still feels like an intruder, unwanted in the world of politics. I think he fears that, as more and more problems arise with our marriage, it will reach a point when I have no choice but to let him go, for the sake of Hyrule. Especially since we…" I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"Especially since you…?" Impa gently pressed.

"Nothing," I waved my hand dismissively. "I just… I just wish he'd trust me is all."

"Maybe that's why he won't talk about it," she suggested. "Maybe he feels ashamed."

"That wouldn't surprise me," I sighed, wearily returning to my seat.

"The question is," Impa said, "which are you first: Hyrule's queen… or Link's wife?"

I swallowed, suppressing the familiar pain her words brought.

"I often ask myself the same thing," I admitted. "I try very hard to be both."

"But Link fears you will be forced to choose Hyrule over him," Impa finished quietly.

"Yes," I whispered, lowering my gaze. "Sometimes even I fear that."

She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms with a sigh, unsure of what to say.

"When do you plan to tell him about Ashton's letter?" she asked. "You should do it soon, before he hears it from the wrong person."

"I intend to," I assured her. "Right now I'm expected at court."

"Try not to worry about Link," she said, giving my wrist a gentle squeeze. "He'll come around."

We then parted ways, as Impa preferred to avoid court whenever possible. I, however, did not have that luxury. Slowly I headed toward the main hall, dreading what awaited me there.

_Gossip,_ I thought bitterly._ That's the last thing I need right now. _

**xxxxxxx**

The main hall was already occupied by lords and ladies clustered into their usual cliques. My presence, as always, was announced the moment I entered the wide doorway.

"Her Majesty, the Queen!" an attendant called over the noise.

I proceeded into the crowd, nodding as each person greeted me with a bow or curtsy. Everyone's attention was focused on me, and I found myself longing for Link's reassuring presence. Though many lords and ladies disapproved of my marriage to Link, they wouldn't dare say it to his face. He was the esteemed Lord General. His title alone demanded respect, but his calm, collected demeanor gave him an air of intimidation. Somehow the court seemed more at ease when he wasn't around. My presence, however, seemed to inspire more uncomfortable subjects of conversation.

"Your Majesty!"

Sighing inwardly, I turned to see a group of ladies hurrying toward me. Eagerly they swarmed about me like bees to a bed of flowers, and mentally I prepared myself for their pointless drabble.

"Your Majesty, have you heard that Lord Harold had a scandalous affair with a woman from Tar Alem?" one lady questioned me.

"Tar Alem?" another demanded before I could answer. "Don't be absurd!"

"_I_ heard he has a Gerudo mistress."

"No, that's Lord Frederick…"

They launched into an animated discussion, assuming the topic interested me.

"You don't seem very attentive, your Majesty," a lower voice addressed me.

Warily I turned to the owner of the voice—Lady Alicia Grefaire.

She was an attractive woman in her mid-thirties with wavy blond hair and sharp green eyes. In her younger years she had been popular with the noblemen and soon became engaged to a man she had believed to be the love of her life. But then one day, less than one year into her marriage, Alicia had found her husband locked in the arms of a servant girl. She had been forced to keep it a secret, but eventually her husband had divorced her, mostly because the servant girl had become pregnant with his child. His betrayal had left Alicia brokenhearted and forever tainted, undesired by other noblemen. It was rumored that Alicia now relied on scandalous advances to catch a courtier's eye. Her tragic downfall had left her a bitter, selfish woman.

Alicia and I had never been friends—partly due to our age difference. Our acquaintanceship had always been superficial at best, but I happened to know she had once been infatuated with Link. Despite being about ten years his senior, she had shamelessly pursued him, obviously hoping to lure him into her chambers—I had teased him about it in the past. Naturally her invitations had gone unanswered, and her attraction had eventually wilted into disdain, especially after our marriage. Of course, she never expressed this to either of us, and she remained courteous enough in public.

"I find such discussion inappropriate," I told her. "They are private matters."

"Forgive us, my Lady," a rosy-faced woman called Margarete spoke up, "but it is so terribly fascinating!"

The giggles that followed did not ease my irritation.

"Of course, your Majesty will never have to worry about such scandalous affairs," another spoke.

"Lady Sophia!"

"To even suggest such a thing!"

"Prince Link is a true gentleman! He would never—"

"That's enough," I cut her off sharply. "I trust you can discuss something more appropriate than my husband's fidelity."

"Of course, my Lady; please forgive us," Sophia said sheepishly. "We hold his Highness in our highest respects…"

"Yes," Margarete nodded enthusiastically. "Sometimes I forget he was born a commoner."

I looked at her, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

"I have met far more gentlemen outside the court than within," I told her.

"Truly, my Lady?"

"I'd believe it," Lady Catrine commented dryly. "Considering my husband's manners…"

"Perhaps I should venture into the common world of courtship," Sophia pondered, gazing up toward the ceiling. "Though I doubt I'd find any as charming as his Highness…"

The ladies giggled into their fans once again, and I plastered a smile onto my face. This was easier to do when I imagined Link's uncomfortable expression at overhearing such a conversation.

"Yes, well, charm alone does not make a king."

My smile dissipated as Alicia's words reached my ears. I stopped mid-step to meet her gaze, aware of the other ladies' eyes on us.

"Exactly what are you implying, Alicia?" I addressed her coldly. "You believe my husband lacks the qualities of a king?"

Unfazed, the older woman gave a small, innocent shrug.

"He was recently denied by the Council, was he not?" she inquired. "Again, I hasten to add. After so many refusals, I find myself wondering whether he will ever be fit to rule..."

Anger seared through me, flaring dangerously when a few of the ladies nodded in agreement.

"That is my husband you speak of," I snapped. "It is not your place to judge him, and you should not talk of matters you know nothing about."

Alicia dared to hold my gaze before bowing her head.

"Forgive me, your Majesty."

Lady Margarete gave a dramatic sigh.

"But Prince Link is so very _handsome_," she swooned, fanning herself with a dreamy smile. "He might never be king, but he at least looks like one..."

To my horror, the rest of the ladies burst into more giggles—Alicia included.

"Yes, well," she said. "I heard the Council refuses to coronate him until you conceive a child…"

Something cold and terrible swept through me, knocking the air from my lungs.

"People are beginning to worry, your Majesty," Alicia went on, her voice echoing strangely. "You married the man you love, after all. How is it you have no child yet?"

The cold sensation melted in a searing rush of fire, and deep down something snapped within me.

"How _dare _you," I seethed. "How dare you ask such a thing!"

Alicia looked at me fearfully.

"Your Majesty, I didn't mean—"

"Silence! My husband is not an object for your petty amusements, and our private life is none of your concern!"

The ladies stared in shock, but they weren't alone—the entire court had gone silent. A sea of startled faces stared at me. I felt suddenly dizzy as the weight of everything I'd said fell back on me. I couldn't remember the last time I'd lost my temper like that.

"I—I must take my leave," I said in a quieter voice, bringing a hand to my temple. "…I don't feel well."

I then hurried out of the hall, fighting to keep my face neutral despite the tears that stung my eyes—I prayed none of them would notice. On and on I walked, my shoes clicking rapidly against the stone floor. I hurried up two flights of stairs, ignoring the inquisitive looks from the servants I passed. Only when the corridor was clear and the door to my study came into view did I allow myself to run. I flung open the door and locked it behind me, my heart pounding in my throat as I slid to the floor. Alicia's words still echoed in my mind, over and over.

"_How is it you have no child yet?"_

Over two years of happy marriage, and I had yet to show any signs of bearing a child. It hadn't mattered so much the first year, but our second wedding anniversary was under two months away… Link and I had begun to worry. Surely nature would have taken its course by now?

Talking about it never helped; all we ever did was exchange halfhearted reassurances. "We'll keep trying," we'd say. "It will happen when it's meant to." All the while we secretly shared that haunting, unspoken question: _Am I the reason?_

We had never allowed our worry to show in public. We heard the whispers among the court, the concerns of the Council, but we had always dismissed them. "Nature will take its course in due time,"we would say.

Alicia's words were not the worst I'd heard, yet I had overreacted. And in doing so I had exposed the façade Link and I tried so hard to maintain. The subject of our child had never been a private matter, but now… now they would never leave us alone.

"You fool," I whispered, burying my head against my knees. "You ridiculous fool."


	3. Chapter III

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter III

Slowly I wandered the castle gardens, my saffron shawl drawn tightly about me. The air felt quite chilly; I knew I should have worn something heavier.

The gardens appeared brown and lifeless, the sky gray and bleak—it seemed nature itself wished me ill. I sat down on a bench by a barren rose bush, rubbing my arms to warm myself. I had come outside intending to see Link and discuss Ashton's letter, but now… I had lost the energy. The incident at court had left me feeling depressed, and the last thing I wanted to do was upset Link.

But I ached to see him. To hear his reassurances, feel his warm embrace…

He would see right through me. No matter how masterfully I pretended, he would know something was bothering me, and I would have to talk about it.

_But I don't want to. I don't want to talk about Ashton, about court, about any of it._

_You must,_ another part of me argued. _You'll feel better, you'll see. He loves you…_

I closed my eyes and sighed, struggling to clear my mind. With so many worries weighing me down, tapping into my telepathy was a challenge. But finally my thoughts quieted, and gently I sought the one mind forever bound to mine. Speaking telepathically had become second nature over the years—as long as Link was close enough. Reaching him while I sat in the gardens and he walked the military training grounds took minimal effort.

_Link? _I sent his name across the grounds. _Am I interrupting?_

_Zelda? _his voice echoed back. _Is everything all right?_

_I…I need to see you._

As soon as I thought the words I regretted them, especially when Link's concern washed over me.

_Did something happen?_

_No—well—I just… _I sighed and shook my head. _Can you get away for a while? Maybe an hour or so?_

_I think I can do that—just a minute._

I knew he was sorting out some arrangement with Clef—Captain Clepharas Bard, that was. He was Link's second-in-command and a good friend to both of us. I knew he'd give us the time we needed.

_All right, I'm leaving the training grounds, _Link said a few minutes later. _Where are you?_

_In the garden by the rose bushes._

The gardens separated the training grounds from the castle's inner courtyards, so only a few minutes passed before I saw Link heading toward me. His dark blue military uniform, complete with black gloves and polished black boots, made him easy to see amidst the bare shrubs, as did his black cloak. A sword hung in its polished scabbard at his waist; rarely did he walk the grounds without it. He smiled when he saw me, his golden hair blowing in the breeze… I never tired of seeing him in that uniform. Dropping my shawl on the bench, I ran to embrace him. I knew he sensed my sadness through our connection, even despite my feeble attempts to hide it, and he held me longer than necessary. I closed my eyes as he caressed my back, reveling in his warm presence.

"Where is your cloak?" he asked, his eyes moving to the bench when we parted. "Is that all you brought?"

I looked at him sheepishly, causing him to sigh and remove his own cloak.

"For heaven's sake," he muttered, wrapping the cloak around my petite shoulders and pinning it in place.

"But what about you?"

"I'll be fine," he waved a dismissive hand. "My uniform's much warmer than your gown. Here, look—I can wear your shawl." Moving to the bench, he reached for the garment and wrapped it around his shoulders. "What do you think?"

Mirth rose up inside me, chasing away my melancholy.

"I think I need my pictobox," I smiled.

"Oh no you don't," Link grinned as he pulled off the shawl. "That pictograph would go straight to the flames. I have a reputation to uphold."

Had I been in higher spirits, I would have continued the playful banter he'd started, but I could only smile. This did not escape his attention.

"So how come you called me off duty, hmm?" he murmured, stroking his thumbs over my rosy cheeks.

I sighed and slid my arms around his waist.

"I was hoping you could steal me away somewhere. Off the castle grounds."

He stroked my hair. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Nowhere far, just… I need some kind of wilderness."

Link laughed softly.

"Well then, you've come to the right person," he said, kissing the crown of my head.

.

We headed for the stables, located on the northwestern side of the castle grounds. Some of the finest horses in the land were kept there, including my palomino Welsh, Clover, and Link's rusty-coated Clydesdale, Epona.

"Hello, Clover," I greeted the mare, reaching up to stroke her long, sleek neck. "Ready for a little ride?"

The stable workers offered to saddle her for me, but I refused, preferring to do it myself. Link saddled Epona as well. Before we could leave, however, Sir Ian, Head of the Royal Guard, hurried over to assign guards for our escapade. Apparently someone had informed him of our trip to the stables.

"I hope you weren't trying to sneak past me," Ian said, though I could see a twinkle in his blue eyes. He had served as Head of the Royal Guard since I was a child, and his overprotective tendencies had never changed.

"She's with me, Ian," Link said. "We don't need guards."

"You should have protection too, Prince Link," he replied, emphasizing Link's title.

"Ian, please," I said, "we'll only be gone an hour or so."

The older man hesitated, eyeing us closely.

"Oh, all right," he sighed. "One hour, you say? If you're not back by then, I'll send half the guard after you."

"That won't be necessary," Link said as he mounted Epona.

"See that it isn't!" Ian called as we galloped away. Link cast me a victorious smile, and I couldn't help but laugh. As I did, the weight of my worries faded—if only for a moment.

We reached the great stone wall surrounding the castle grounds and passed through the Northern Gate, which led into the wilderness beyond.

_Race you_, Link's taunt echoed through my mind.

I grinned and spurred Clover on, tailing just seconds behind Epona as we sped toward the distant forest.

Upon reaching our destination, we came to a halt and dismounted, letting the mares graze as we walked deeper into the glade. It was the perfect place for a temporary escape, as the trees provided decent privacy without shutting out the sunlight. They were bare at this time of year, however, and it was too cloudy a day for any sunshine, but I cherished it nonetheless. The air was fresh, tinged with the scent of pine, and the stillness soothed me. Had I been alone, the scenery might have depressed me, but such was not the case.

"It's a bit dreary at this time of year…" Link said, pulling off his gloves and stuffing them in his pocket.

I reached for his hand and kissed it. "It's perfect."

We walked in silence a while, soaking in our surroundings. My mind, however, was not with the scenery. Wandering through the forest like that, it reminded me so much of the past, when Link and I had courted in secret.

.

After my engagement to Ashton had been severed, Link had made every attempt to move on. He had accepted we had no future together and tried to distance himself from me. Determinedly he had avoided me whenever possible, and I, in my misery, had let him. This carried on for about a week until I could stand his absence no longer. Every fiber of me ached to be with him, and so one day I asked him to meet me in the library. It had been an important place for us, as we had shared many hours there as children. I had pleaded with him to continue our relationship. I no longer cared if it was forbidden; I just wanted to be with him. Link had been reluctant, knowing how dangerous and painful our secret courtship could be, but in the end he, too, could not bear to stay apart.

Our unofficial courtship lasted a few months—until the Retaliation War began. As Captain, Link had naturally left to fight, and for the next five years our time together was severely limited. We corresponded through secret letters, but we saw little of each other in person. Link returned to Castletown from time to time on duty, but he never stayed long. Even then we had struggled to find time alone together. To make matters worse, the war hadn't kept my suitors away. One after another I rejected them, much to the exasperation of the court. My actions had also confused my father, but for the most part he had let it alone. It had been a time of war, after all; finding me a husband had been the least of his worries.

Link had known about my suitors, and his letters often carried conflicting messages. Sometimes, when writing in his darker moods, he told me to forget him and find happiness with a man of my status. Other times he wrote with a quiet desperation, telling me I was his only comfort in the midst of so much turmoil. It had pained me to see how much the war drained his spirit; more than anything I had longed to be with him.

Toward the end of the war, Link suffered a terrible injury that should have killed him on the battlefield. Clepharas Bard, who had been Lieutenant of the Second Company at the time, had personally brought Link back to Hyrule Castle for more advanced treatment. I became Link's unofficial caretaker, spending the majority of each day with him. My constant attention had of course given root to scandalous gossip among the court, but I no longer cared about appearances. I had nearly lost the man I loved, and I was determined to see his every need fulfilled, no matter what.

Later, as Link began to recover, he revealed to me that his injury had not been a mere battle wound—someone had tried to kill him. Not only that, but the perpetrator had been none other than Link's commanding officer, General Keiton. The man had grown unbalanced in his older years, proud and paranoid. With Link's rapid climb up the military ladder over so few years, Keiton had come to fear Link sought to replace him. Link wanted nothing of the sort, but Keiton had felt threatened enough to attempt murder. If anyone had witnessed Keiton's crime, they never came forward. The Keitons were a noble family, well known and respected in the court. A mere soldier could not accuse the general of murder without solid evidence.

Link had begged me not to expose his secret. Keiton had been killed in an explosion mere days after the attack, and Link had no desire to accuse a dead man of murder. Even if he had managed to tarnish Keiton's name, he could have ruined his own reputation in the process. So, reluctantly, I had agreed to keep silent.

I had, however, refused to attend Keiton's funeral. Naturally this had offended the Keiton family, and my father had been outraged. He demanded to know why I acted so irresponsibly—refusing suitors, spending so much time with a man I wasn't even courting, and then refusing to attend such an important funeral. I had told him the truth—that I could not honor a man who had attempted murder.

After lengthy conversations with Link and Kinsley, my father could find no reason Link would lie, especially since he had wanted to keep it secret. He offered Link money as compensation, but Link had refused, telling him to put it to better use.

That same day, my father had summoned me to his quarters and bluntly asked if I was in love with Link. Tearfully I had admitted I was and begged him to allow our courtship. My father refused to do so and dismissed me. The next day, however, he summoned Link to his study for another lengthy conversation. He must have been very impressed with him, since he not only granted Link permission to court me, but to marry me. Later he confessed he had always hoped I would find a worthy husband of Hylian blood. In actuality, he had reminded me, Hyrulean law did not forbid a union between a princess and a commoner—the the Alliance had started that tradition long ago to help maintain strong connections between kingdoms.

Thus Link and I became engaged during the final months of the Retaliation War, but this we kept secret for several months. As far as the public knew, Link and I were only courting. Then, months after the war ended, our engagement was announced, and we finally married in the spring. Even despite the controversy that surrounded us, those first few months had been sheer marital bliss… until my father passed away. I was coronated shortly after, and the controversy of our marriage worsened with the weight of my responsibilities.

.

"Zelda?"

I blinked when Link's voice broke through my thoughts.

"You okay?"

I met his gentle gaze, my heart swelling with love for him. Moving closer, I reached for his cheek and kissed him—deeply. He kissed me back, though I could sense his confusion.

"That's not really an answer," he said when we parted, slightly breathless.

"Does it matter?" I murmured, tiptoeing up for another.

"Yes, it does," he said before I could kiss him. "This little escapade of ours, it's all very…"

"Exciting?"

"Spontaneous." He gave me a concerned, scrutinizing look. "Something upset you today."

"Sometimes it's good to be spontaneous," I said with a shrug, trailing my hands along his chest. "We used to be like this all the time, remember? When we courted in secret?"

"You mean we were sneaky and rebellious. And you're changing the subject."

"Rebellious indeed," I grinned, pulling away to admire the glade. "We'd run off to places like this… just to get away from it all."

"It would seem that much hasn't changed," Link replied, watching me closely.

I stood there a moment, thinking back to my years as Ashton's unwilling bride-to-be. I remembered how torn I'd been between loyalty to my kingdom—and thus to the betrothal I'd been assigned—and my love for Link. Again and again we'd run off to express our feelings in any way short of fornication. Those days had often filled us with frustration and fear. These feelings had followed us into our marriage, and I sometimes wondered when Link would finally tire of it all…

Sensing my darkening mood, Link moved to embrace me from behind, wrapping me in the cloak I still wore.

"Please tell me what's bothering you," he murmured against my cheek.

I hesitated, then breathed a long, heavy sigh.

"All right," I whispered.

Gently he released me. Taking his hand, I led him to a nearby tree where we sat down. Link noticed my rigid demeanor, especially when I avoided his gaze.

"Come here," he soothed, reaching for me. "Don't retreat from me like that."

I let him pull me closer and forced my eyes to his. The guilt I'd managed to suppress over the past few days had resurfaced more aggressively than ever, mingling with the anxiety brought by Ashton's letter. But though I had intended to discuss Ashton, a different subject escaped my lips, something that struck a deeper chord within me.

"I made a fool of myself in court today," I whispered.

Link tilted his head, giving me a sympathetic look.

"Why do you say that?"

"I lost my temper. I made a scene."

"What did they say to you?"

"It was Alicia. She asked why… why we have no children."

Link went rigid as anger darkened his face.

"She has no right."

"The heir of Hyrule is no private matter," I reminded him. "We've heard it all before, but… this time I… I lost it."

His features softened as he sensed my fear.

"How come?" he murmured, tipping my face up to his.

I searched his face, reluctant to answer.

"Zelda," he said softly, "you can tell me…"

"I… I bled again," I whispered, feeling a tear wet my cheek. "A few days ago."

Despite his controlled expression, I felt his fear, his disappointment.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why do you think?" I muttered, wiping my eyes. "I didn't want you to know."

Link was taken aback. "You thought I'd be angry with you?"

"I knew you'd be angry with yourself!" I burst out. "And I'm tired of it! I'm tired of the disappointment, the pressure, the tension…" I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I was so sure this time, Link… I was so sure…"

I buried my face against his shoulder, struggling not to cry. He held me close and pressed soft kisses to my temple, unable to find words of comfort. It seemed we'd exhausted them after so many months of worry.

"We'll just keep trying," he whispered. "That's all we can do."

I pulled away, letting my tears trail down my face. "But, Link…"

"Shh, there's nothing more to say about it," he soothed, eager to push the subject away. He reached into his lower pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "I just wish you had told me." Gently he cupped my face and wiped my tears away. "You should never be afraid to tell me anything."

He offered me the handkerchief, and I took it solemnly, pressing it to my nose.

"I know," I murmured. "But I hate it when you blame yourself."

He sighed and rubbed my arms.

"I know."

Silence followed as we both refused to press the subject. I lay my head against his chest, closing my eyes when he stroked my hair.

"So may I ask what happened after you put Alicia in her place?" he finally asked.

I sighed and shook my head. "I couldn't stay there. I told them I didn't feel well and excused myself. Link, how will I face them this evening?"

"You won't," he said, trailing his fingers along my cheek. "We'll dine in our chambers, and you won't face a single one of them."

I sat up to meet his gaze. "But what will we tell them?"

"You already said you don't feel well. As far as I'm concerned, they can question our absence all they want. It's only one evening."

"I… I suppose…"

"You don't have to worry about anything," he insisted. "I'll take care of it. And then we'll carry on like it never happened. It will be all right, Zelda; I promise."

He looked so eager, so wanting to ease my anxiety. I cupped his cheek, allowing myself a small smile.

"Thank you, Link…"

He kissed me, pulling me onto his lap as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Is there anything else I should know about?" he murmured.

I hesitated, remembering the real reason I'd lured him away from his duties. But I couldn't bring myself to follow through. He wouldn't be at court that evening; I figured I could delay a little longer.

"Nothing that can't wait," I told him. "I'm sure the hour's nearly over."

"Should we go back?"

I stroked his hair away from his face. "I said _nearly_ over."

He smiled as I leaned in to kiss him.

**xxxxxxx**

That evening we dined alone in our chambers, just as Link had promised. Surprisingly, not a word of Ashton's letter had reached his sharp ears, and I was glad to enjoy a relaxed meal with him. Afterward, however, when the servants had cleared the dishes away, I slipped back into a sad, regretful state.

Link had decided to read by the fire, as we both often did, and I had curled up next to him on the sofa.

"Do you want a book?" he asked me.

"No." I lay my head against his shoulder. "You just read; don't mind me."

I didn't know what I was trying to achieve. I'd already put the subject off long enough, and Link could sense something was bothering me.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, wrapping his arm around me. "Do you want to talk about earlier?"

"No, no," I shook my head. "I just want to relax."

_Well, that much is true_.

Link nodded and went on reading, idly caressing my arm.

We stayed like that another minute or two before Link broke his concentration. Naturally he had sensed my tension.

"All right," he said, closing the book and setting it aside. "Something's wrong. You're not relaxing at all."

Slowly I peeled myself from his side and moved to the opposite end of the sofa. Drawing my legs up, I wrapped my arms around my knees and regarded him mournfully.

Link furrowed his brow. "Out with it, Zelda; you're making me nervous."

I sighed and lowered my gaze.

"I received a letter today."

"All right," he said patiently, as I received many letters. "From whom?"

Again I hesitated, forcing myself to meet his eyes.

"…From Ashton."

Any pleasantness in his features vanished in that instant, leaving a dark scowl.

"Ashton?" he hissed.

"He wishes to rendezvous," I said quickly. "To review treaties."

"Which treaties?"

"All of them…"

Link stared at me, confusion lining his face.

"All right, back up," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Just… tell me what the letter said."

I took another deep breath and released it.

"You know Ashton is King now."

"Unfortunately."

"He… he wants to review the treaties at Vandelle Castle—"

"We are not stepping foot in Vandelle Castle," Link cut me off.

I gazed at him sadly.

"Well, that's just it… There is no 'we.'"

He searched my face, his expression grim. I sensed his nervousness grow stronger.

"What do you mean?"

"Ashton has… demanded you stay behind," I told him softly. "He's banished you from Vandelius."

"He can banish me all he wants," Link snapped, "but there's no way in hell you're going to Vandelle Castle. And you're not going anywhere near Vandelius without me."

Deep down beneath his fury I sensed the same fear he struggled to keep hidden. I felt it waking, rising, driving him to panic…

"Darling, I have no intention of going to Vandelle Castle," I soothed. "But we must compromise somehow…"

He crossed his arms and looked away, staring into the glowing flames.

"Do you have the letter?"

I nodded and rose from my chair, going into the bedroom to retrieve the folded parchment from my vanity drawer. Link was pacing the floor when I returned, deep in thought.

Wordlessly I offered him the letter, and he took it without meeting my gaze. Crossing over to the fire, he unfolded the paper and read its contents. Moments later he crumpled it with one hand and cast it into the fire. Quickly the words burned away, reduced to meaningless ash.

But burning the words would not undo the obligation they'd brought.

Link stood there a while, his back turned to me as he watched the flames in silence. His shoulders were tense, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Link," I said softly, "Impa thought that we—Ashton and I—could rendezvous at a designated location at the border between Hyrule and Vandelius. That way neither of us would have an advantage over the other."

He did not reply, and I felt his anger fester. I could imagine his thoughts. _And me?_

"I thought that you could come with me—as far as you could without Ashton knowing. You could pitch a tent some few miles away—"

"Zelda," Link whirled around to face me, "it's been _seven years_ since you last saw him—five of those were spent at war. I want—I _need_—to be at your side the moment he lays eyes on you; can't you understand that?"

"Yes, I can," I answered, willing him to feel my sorrow. "And I want that too. But Ashton is not reasonable when it comes to me. There's no telling what he would do if he saw you there…" I took a step closer, my clenched hand pressed to my collarbone. "Link, I couldn't bear it if he started another conflict… especially if it could so easily be avoided…"

I gave him a pleading look, but he turned back toward the fire. Sighing heavily, I slipped my arms around his waist and pressed my cheek to his back.

_If you truly want to come I won't stop you_, I told him. _That is your right as my husband, and I won't take it away._

Link was quiet another moment, struggling with his conflicting emotions.

_I appreciate that,_ he finally answered. _But I know how fragile the situation is. It would be selfish of me to go._

I closed my eyes and held him closer. "I'm sorry it has to be this way… I'm so sorry…"

He took my hands and turned to meet my gaze.

"I know you are," he murmured. "It's not your fault."

Then he pulled away, silently heading for the bedroom. I followed, knowing he was still upset. He had reason to be, after all.

"So… do you like the idea of accompanying me most of the way?" I asked him gently.

"I don't like any of it," he replied, locking the balcony doors and closing the curtains. "But I'll accompany you as far as I can. That's all I can do."

He pulled off his robe and tossed it on a nearby chair. Moving toward the bed, he then blew out his bedside table lamp and slipped under the covers, his back turned to me. I followed suit, extinguishing my own lamp and settling in on my side of the bed. I lay there an awkward moment or two before sliding closer to him. Tentatively I caressed his shoulder, sensing the fear that dominated his thoughts.

"I'm supposed to present my decision to the Council tomorrow morning," I murmured. "You should come with me."

"Fine," he murmured.

"You're handling this admirably; I want them to see that."

He didn't answer, and I felt something grow heavier in my chest. I knew he believed the Council didn't care what he thought, save Kinsley, but I was determined to change that.

I leaned over to kiss his cheek before stretching out beside him, still massaging his arm.

_Is there something you want to talk about?_

_No. Go to sleep._

_You're angry with me._

_Not with you._

_But you are because of me_, I insisted, pulling my hand away. _Because of what I am…_

"Don't go there," Link said, turning over to face me. "We've been through this many times. I knew exactly what I was getting into, and just because I feel frustrated sometimes doesn't mean I regret marrying you. I love you, Zelda."

"I love you too," I murmured, my voice small and unsteady.

Link pulled me closer with a sigh, wrapping an arm around my waist and burying his face against my throat. I kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair as we drew comfort in each other. That cold fear I sensed within him still lingered, and silently I pondered another way to broach the subject. I never found a solution, however, as Link soon fell asleep in my arms, and I followed shortly after.

**xxxxxxx**

A lone figure strode through the night, blending with the shadows as he moved. Hooded and cloaked, he steadily made his way through the dark alleys of Castletown. It was very late; most of the taverns were closed, the houses all dark. A dog barked in the distance, but otherwise all was quiet.

He rounded another corner and stopped, surveying the area for intruders. Finding none, the man reached into his cloak and pulled out a small black stone. Other than its smooth, polished surface, it appeared quite ordinary. A piece of jewelry perhaps.

But it was far from ordinary.

"_Telah kharem…" _the man murmured, closing his eyes as he pressed his fingers against the stone. It glowed with a pale violet light before the man vanished into thin air.

Once the strange and nauseating sensation of teleportation began to wear off, the man opened his eyes to find himself in a dark and stuffy room. A few small candles provided some light, but barely. As his eyes adjusted, the man noticed a slouched figure sitting across the room. Heavily cloaked, he appeared to blend with the darkness, like some shadowy phantom.

"Master, I have come as you commanded."

The figure remained seated, not bothering to look at his subordinate.

"What of the queen's decision?" he demanded, his voice unnaturally low.

"She is willing to rendezvous. At the border between Hyrule and Vandelius."

"When will she depart?"

"Within two days' time, I'm sure."

There was a pause.

"Then you must execute the attack tonight."

The subordinate hesitated.

"Forgive me, Master," he said carefully, "but I cannot see how this will aid Hyrule."

"Do not question me!" his master snapped. "If you wish to achieve your goal, you will do as I say."

There was another pause.

"Forgive me, Master… I wish only to save my kingdom from the dark path it has strayed upon."

"You desire a king worthy of Hyrule's throne," his master growled, "and I shall give you that."

He rose and fixed his subordinate with a hooded, unsettling gaze.

"I will deliver the greatest king Hyrule has ever known."


	4. Chapter IV

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter IV

As planned, Link and I presented our decision to the Council the following morning. Once again we sat together at the head of the great table, facing the two lines of attentive ministers. I had come in higher spirits than Link and greeted the ministers with a pleasant smile, confident the meeting would go well. Link, however, sat rigidly beside me, his lips pursed in a straight line.

"You have reached a decision, your Majesty?" Timothus inquired.

"Yes," I confirmed. "We—my husband and I—have decided Mistress Impa's idea to rendezvous at the borderline is satisfactory. A response to Ashton's letter will go out today."

"And what of his Highness?" Kinsley inquired.

"We have discussed the matter," I replied. "My husband has agreed to not participate in the negotiations—however," I added, my eyes sweeping over the ministers, "he will not remain here at the castle either. A small camp will be arranged for him a short distance from the rendezvous site."

The ministers nodded.

"I suppose that is acceptable," Vasilis spoke. "As long as he isn't seen."

Link eyed him a moment but said nothing.

"My husband's choice is a gracious one," I said firmly. "By cooperating, we have expressed a desire to maintain peace, but I will not tolerate any further disrespect. If Ashton insists upon further political interaction, he must first recognize my marriage to Link. I intend to warn him of this; my husband will not be thrust aside again."

A few of the ministers nodded in agreement, yet I noticed others, such as Vasilis and Elena, exchanged what appeared to be exasperated glances. Annoyance flickered within me, but I was distracted by Link's own irritation—it was directed toward me. Concerned, I turned to look at him, but Vasilis drew my attention.

"A response should be sent out immediately," he said.

"Of course," I replied, somewhat distracted. "For time's sake, it's best we prepare for the rendezvous regardless of Ashton's response. Lord Vasilis, I leave the proper arrangements to you—that includes those for my husband's camp. Mistress Impa will keep me updated as usual. Now, if there are no more immediate concerns, I wish to resume this meeting once I've completed my response."

No one objected, and I was free to dismiss the Council. Link and I left the chamber first, but he walked on ahead without so much as a glance. His lingering irritation pricked me like thorns.

_Link, what's wrong?_ I quickened my step to match his. _What did I do?_

_Would you stop being so obvious?_ came his sharp reply. _You know they're watching us._

Quickly I adjusted my walk and cleared my expression, masking the stress I felt inside. Link and I continued our neutral façade as we rounded the corner and descended a stairway. Seeing we were alone, I grabbed Link's arm and pulled him inside a nearby storage room.

"What is the matter with you?" I demanded, closing the door. "Why are you being so cold?"

"You know why," he said. "You spoke on my behalf again."

I shook my head in confusion. "What—?"

"All that talk of not tolerating any disrespect toward me, of forcing Ashton to let me attend any future negotiations—it's embarrassing, Zelda."

"I _embarrassed_ you?"

"I didn't ask you to defend me like that."

"You want me to ignore Ashton's irreverence? You want me to pretend it's all right?"

"I want you to let me take it in stride. You made me look pitiful—like I asked you to stand up for me."

I stared at him, momentarily speechless.

"I did not. You always walk into that chamber so wound up and paranoid you hear mockery that isn't there. I said what needed to be said."

"You made me look like a child," Link argued. "And the Council will never grant a child the Rite of Kingship."

I saw the fear in his eyes as it seeped through the connection.

"Link, you're making too much of this…"

"You saw their faces," he said bitterly. "I didn't imagine those looks, Zelda."

I hesitated, recalling the exasperated looks I'd seen them exchange. Had they truly reacted in the way Link feared? Actions spoke louder than words, after all, and sometimes silence spoke the loudest. Had I been wrong to say anything on his behalf?

I turned to him, my face softening with concern.

"Link, I…"

"I have to go; I'm already late." He left before I could finish another word.

I stood there a while, listening to his footsteps fade before breathing a dispirited sigh.

"…I'm sorry," I whispered.

**xxxxxxx**

Link had declined to dine with me that evening, due to some military issue he wished to clear up. He had sent an attendant to deliver the message verbally, which I found a bit cold, since he usually wrote a note for me. It wasn't the first time such a thing had happened, but I couldn't help wondering if he was avoiding me. Was he still angry with me?

It was late when he returned to our chambers; I had already prepared for bed. I sat in our bedroom, gazing sadly out the glass balcony doors, when I heard the sitting room door open and close. I knew it was Link; I sensed his presence. I couldn't sense his emotions, however, since he had formed a telepathic block after our argument.

I listened as he pulled off his cloak and gloves and put them away. The gentle _clink_ of his sword told me he'd momentarily set it on a table. From there he went directly into the bathroom to wash up. This saddened me—he had known I was waiting in the bedroom.

Sighing gently, I rose and went into the sitting room to retrieve his sword. Picking it up off the table, I returned to the bedroom and carefully placed the weapon in its proper holder near his bedside. Then I returned to the sitting room, sank into one of the armchairs, and waited.

Eventually the bathroom door opened, and I looked up to see Link dressed in his robe and running a hand through his damp hair. Our eyes met, and I was relieved to see no anger in his gaze.

"I put your sword away," I told him quietly.

He glanced at the table and thanked me. "I'm sorry I missed supper," he added. "There was some terrible row between two soldiers, and I wanted to settle it immediately."

"Couldn't Clef have handled that?" I had to ask.

"Yes, but I sent him home. Connor is ill, and I didn't want Clef staying longer than his duties required."

"Connor is ill?" I echoed, concerned for Clef's son. "Is it serious?"

"He's got a fever; he came down with it last night."

"I'll have to visit Siena tomorrow," I murmured. "See how he's doing."

"I'm sure she'd like that." Link replied, moving to the fireplace to kindle the dying flames.

I studied his back, trying to read him without the use of our connection, but I was glad to feel his mental block fade away. His feelings seeped into my mind, his remorse mingling with my own.

"Link, I need to apologize," I said softly. "About earlier…"

He sighed and pulled away from the fire, which was now warmer and brighter.

"Sweet Zelda, always ready to apologize," he said gently. "Even when she's done nothing wrong." Placing the stoker back in its holder, he turned to give me a sad smile. "I'm the one who should apologize. I was unfair to you."

"But you were right," I argued. "I did speak on your behalf; I've done it more than once before—"

"You were only trying to include me," Link soothed, coming closer to rub my arms. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"I'll try to be more careful. If I say something that embarrasses you…"

I trailed off when he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Don't worry about it," he murmured. "You were right; I attended that meeting wound up and paranoid. Then I vented my frustration on you, and that wasn't fair. Forgive me?"

I embraced him with a sigh, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"This whole situation's got me wound up," Link said, caressing my back. "I wish I could go with you…"

"I know," I murmured. "But it will all be over soon."

He did not respond, and I felt his fear grow stronger.

"Link…" Gently I pulled away to study his face. "What is it?"

Worry lined his features, but he remained silent.

"I know something has been bothering you a long time now," I said softly. "I can feel it, Link; I feel it every day. But you refuse to talk about it…"

"Talking won't make it better."

Link tried to pull away, but I caught his wrist.

"What do you mean?" I pleaded. "We've always been able to talk…"

"You don't understand," he murmured. "It's not that I can't talk to you. There's just nothing left to say. Nothing but empty consolation."

I swallowed as something cold sank within me.

"Empty…?"

Slowly he turned back to me, no longer bothering to hide his fear.

"This rendezvous with Ashton," he said, his voice hushed. "It… It's going to push everything to the surface again."

"Push what to the surface?" I murmured. _What are you afraid of?_

"Us," he whispered. "…Me. My incompetence."

I shook my head. "Link—"

"Don't," he cut me off, wrenching his wrist from my grasp. "Don't do that. Comforting me won't change reality. The way things are, they'll name me a failure and tear us apart—with Ashton in the lead."

"Link, that time is over now," I soothed, struggling to ignore my own rising fear. "You're my husband; I am bound to you by law—by the gods themselves!"

He shook his head, his face lined with grief.

"I thought that would be enough," he whispered. "I thought, as husband and wife, we would have forever… But even a marriage can be broken."

My heart jumped to my throat. "Link—"

"Only two things can make it better," he pressed. "One or the other… but the gods just won't…"

He trailed off, but his heavy, unspoken words filled the room.

_The gods won't allow me to take the throne._

_The gods won't give us a child._

"One or the other must happen," he whispered, his eyes gazing desperately into mine. "If we keep failing to conceive, I'll be blamed first. I'm _disposable_, Zelda…. I'm only a consort. You are the queen. They'll force you to annul our marriage and find a proper husband who can give you an heir."

"Link, stop it," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "I would never do that—"

"You say that now," he replied, his eyes glistening in the firelight, "but you've been bound to Hyrule since birth, long before you even met me."

"Hyrule does not require I take another husband!"

"But Hyrule requires an heir! And the suitors still come for you!" He was angry now, but the feeling was not directed at me. "Suitors who ignore the ring on your finger; suitors who don't _recognize_ the vows we share."

"They mean nothing to me, Link! I refuse them all without a second thought!"

"They mean _something_, Zelda," he insisted, despair lacing his tone. "Soon Ashton will pursue you as another far more determined suitor, another louder voice raised against us. The Alliance won't ignore the protests forever, and eventually you'll run out of reasons to keep this fruitless marriage."

It was my turn for anger, but my feelings were directed at him. I was grateful for my rage; it burned away my grief.

"Is that how little you trust me?" I demanded. "You think me so unfaithful?"

Slowly Link shook his head, a sad smile gracing his lips.

"Oh my darling," he whispered, "this has nothing to do with trust or faith. Not for us—certainly not for you. I know you would resist the Alliance with every ounce of your loyalty, but you would never drag our kingdom into it. You would never defend our marriage to the point of war… and I would never ask anything different of you."

"But I would, Link!" I cried. "I would defend my marriage to the point of war!"

He stared at me, stunned by my outburst.

"No one can tell me who I can or cannot marry," I said fervently. "Not anymore. I am Queen, and I have the right to choose my own husband, no matter what traditions the Alliance supports. They can pressure me all they want, but to force me into an annulment…" Furiously I shook my head. "That crosses a very fine line. The moment they try to rule my life or control Hyrule's politics is the moment they cease to be my allies."

Still he gazed at me, evidently speechless. Through the connection I sensed his amazement at my passionate declaration. I also sensed his uncertainty, his reluctance to let go of his worries. Longing to reassure him, I took his face in my hands and kissed him tenderly.

"No one's going to tear us apart," I murmured, stroking my thumbs below his eyes. "You will never, ever lose me."

He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.

…_But what if we can't conceive?_

His hushed words echoed painfully through my mind, but I steeled myself against them.

_I won't let them force us apart. I swear to you, Link; I already swore it two years ago._

He met my gaze, his eyes clouded with fear.

"But you wouldn't have a choice," he whispered. "You would have to renounce the throne to stay with me, and you can't do that; you know you can't…"

I recalled my father's warning, given to me the day he permitted my engagement to Link.

_Duty before desire, Zelda… You belong first and foremost to Hyrule._

"No, I won't allow it!" I cried, throwing my arms around Link's neck. "I won't leave you, not for any reason… I don't care what they say…"

He held me tight, pressing his face into my hair as I clung to him. Tears burned my throat, but I suppressed them. I needed to stay strong for him.

"We still have time," I whispered in his ear, my fingers entangling with his hair. "We've come so far, Link… A few years ago we could only dream of the life we have now. We will have a family someday; I _know_ we will." I trailed my fingers along his face, longing to erase the sadness from his features. "It will happen when it's meant to."

He swallowed and lowered his gaze, still unconvinced.

"Link," I pleaded, "don't be afraid… We must have faith. Do you really think we'd love each other this much only to be torn apart?"

"I wish I could be as faithful as you," he whispered. "But sometimes I fear I'm… being punished for my sins."

I furrowed my brow. "Punished? For what sins?"

"I am a man of war, Zelda. There is... blood on my hands."

"You are a man of justice," I corrected, holding his gaze, "and you wage war to defend this kingdom—to protect the ones you love. That is not a crime."

Link remained silent, his eyes distant. He appreciated my words, but I could not banish his self-doubt.

"Your heart is pure, and that's what matters," I said softly, pressing my hand to his chest. "You're the most virtuous man I know, and I can't believe the gods would punish you in any way."

He took my face in his hands, studying me sadly.

"All I can do is hold on to you," he whispered, brushing his thumbs along my cheeks, "as long as I possibly can… until you're forced to push me away."

"That will never happen," I whispered back. "Never."

Then I kissed him, clutching his nightshirt as he responded. A familiar ache burned deep within me, flowing through our bond and flooding his senses. In a rush of need I gripped his shoulders and jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. We kissed again and again, our mouths barely leaving each other's flesh. Link moved for the bedroom, pausing only to kick the door shut.

We collapsed on the bed, tearing off each other's clothes between frantic, breathless kisses. Then we fell into each other's arms, mouth to mouth, flesh to flesh. Reality blurred into ecstasy; pleasure consumed our fears. We knew nothing but each other, nothing but the merging of our souls into one.

_This is forever, Link. As long as I live I will never let you go._

**xxxxxxx**

Nearly two weeks passed before I received Ashton's response. The message was short, and written in a hand I didn't recognize. Ashton had most likely dictated his words:

"_His Majesty, King Ashton, will arrive at the designated rendezvous location in one week following the date of this letter. He trusts her Majesty, Queen Zelda, will honor his wishes."_

Traveling to the southern border by carriage was a week's journey at least—granted there were no delays due to weather or some other complication. Fortunately we had been preparing ahead of time, and our carriage was set to leave that afternoon. By the Council's orders, Ian had arranged an escort party for our journey. "Escort party" was perhaps too strong a term, as it usually involved a larger number of people than what had been assigned. Link and I had requested the bare minimum, hoping to attract little attention while traveling at a faster pace. Thus Ian had arranged for five guards—two would ride before the carriage, two behind, and one would drive.

And so, after bidding a fond farewell to Impa, whom we wouldn't see for another fortnight, Link and I boarded the carriage and set off toward Hyrule Field. The South Gate of Castletown made the most logical exit, which required passing through the town itself. I enjoyed this route; I loved watching the people carry out their daily routines.

The market was busy as usual. Everywhere people bustled about to purchase goods, sellers shouted promotions over one another, and children ran about the market square, chasing dogs or chickens while their parents called after them. This glimpse of everyday life outside the castle fascinated me; it was something I would never know.

Many people stopped to watch our carriage, and some even waved—especially the children. Many of these people knew Link from his days as a humble soldier, and I could hear them calling his name in greeting. He waved back to them with a smile, as did I, though I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for him. Link was my husband now, the Prince of Hyrule. His friendship with the common people would never be as natural as it had once been. Briefly I searched his emotions, glad to find no sorrow in him. Instead I felt a tense determination. Ashton had threatened our peace, and Link and I would do whatever we could to protect our people.

Finally we arrived at the South Gate, where the guards allowed us through. Our carriage rolled slowly over the drawbridge, then picked up speed once the wheels touched ground. Hyrule Field opened before us, and silently Link and I watched Castletown grow smaller and smaller before vanishing from sight.

Sighing gently, I turned away from the window, ready to drift into another bout of melancholy, but Link distracted me. Leaving his place beside me, he moved to the opposite side of the carriage and rested his boots on the seat he'd previously occupied. Then he reached for the small traveling bag we'd brought and pulled out a deck of cards.

"Care for a game?" he inquired with a smile.

I grinned and imitated his posture, resting my feet on the seat next to him while he dealt us each a hand on the small table we'd brought. Link and I played cards often, but there was an added challenge to our game: we would scan each other's mind during each hand, judging the other's emotions to determine our next move. Concealing how much confidence we placed in our cards was part of the challenge, though I considered our telepathy an advantage. Link had a very good poker face—as long as I wasn't trying to make him smile.

Our escort party stopped briefly for midday meal, giving everyone the opportunity to stretch their legs. Link and I both preferred riding horseback over traveling by carriage, but that was not proper transportation for the royal couple. I was simply glad to be with him. Had I been traveling alone, I feared I would have been sick with nerves. Seven years had passed since I'd last seen Ashton, and our parting hadn't been on the best of terms.

My nerves still plagued me, even despite Link's company. Later, when the two of us decided to read in silence, I read the same paragraph three times and processed nothing. So I gave up and turned to gaze out the window, subconsciously rubbing the page between my thumb and forefinger. I couldn't focus while memories of Ashton troubled my mind, memories of his deceptive romance, his frightening temper… I had no idea how he'd react to me, or what he would propose. I prayed he had gained some decency over the years. But even if he had, would he bestow it upon me, his begrudged former fiancée…?

The gentle touch of Link's finger stroking my cheek brought me back to the present, and I turned to find him watching me with a tender expression. Wordlessly I slid toward him, snuggling closer and resting my head against his shoulder. He placed his book aside and wrapped his arm around me, caressing my shoulder as I closed my eyes. Neither of us had slept much the previous night, being too restless with nerves, and I was sure his eyes felt as heavy as mine. Inevitably we both dozed off to the gentle movement of the carriage.

Before darkness fell, we stopped at a small village south of Lon Lon Ranch with only one inn. There we stayed, cloaked and disguised while our escorts saw to the lodging arrangements. The innkeeper was made aware that a lord and lady would stay at his inn, but our actual identities were kept secret. Link and I wished to attract as little attention as possible. We were given the finest room available, which wasn't much, but it was clean at least. Supper was brought up to our room so we could dine in private. Both of us were quite tired by this hour, and we fell asleep just minutes after lying down.

We rose early the following morning, when the lavender sky showed only the faintest signs of dawn. A hearty breakfast was served before we returned to the carriage. The landscape appeared gray and dreary—typical for early spring in Hyrule. The weather was fortunately fair, however; the lingering rainclouds had so far kept to themselves.

Link and I passed the time much as we had the previous day, engaging in whatever activity the confines of a carriage permitted. Most of the time we read, played cards, or simply stared out the window. The hours were slow and utterly dull, but I dreaded the end of our journey nonetheless.

We did not reach a village the second night, so we set up camp instead. Link and I had specifically requested a simpler tent be brought for us—the same type the guards used—as it was easier to pitch.

Our escorts naturally insisted upon setting up the camp, which was preferable since I was only half-awake when Link helped me out of the carriage. They also hunted and prepared our supper. Link had offered to help but was politely refused, as it was improper for the prince to join a hunting party of subordinates. Their courtesy had left him disappointed; a good hunt would have broken the monotony of our travel.

The next few days carried on in much the same way. Each hour wore at our patience, but I was torn between eagerness and apprehension. I prayed our efforts would reach a peaceful conclusion.

On the sixth day of travel we reached Link's camp, located only a short distance from the rendezvous point on the southern border. Outside the window I could see three simple tents had been pitched—one for Link and two for the guards who would remain with him. The sight doubled my anxiety, and my heart raced while the carriage slowed to a stop. The guards did not move to open the doors; they knew to give us a moment.

Link pulled me into his arms, holding me possessively close. I clung to him, no longer a queen but simply a young woman in need of her husband's support.

"Remember I'm right here," he told me, "just a short distance away. And even with the distance, we're only a thought apart. A thought, Zelda. That's all it will take for me to come after you."

I nodded against his shoulder, trying to draw comfort from his words. It soothed me to know he was close by, but I wanted to be stronger than that. Ashton needed to know he couldn't intimidate me. Not anymore.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," I whispered.

Link pulled away to cup my cheek. "If anyone can find a peaceful way out of this mess, it's you. I just want you to know I'm here if you need me."

"I know," I murmured. "But I don't want you to worry. Soon this will all be over, and we'll be home again, where we belong."

Link sighed. "I have complete faith in you, Zelda, but there's only so much you can do."

"Let's hope it's enough then."

He nodded and kissed me, giving me one more tight embrace. Then he opened the carriage door and stepped down onto the ground.

"Good luck," he whispered, taking my hand and kissing it. _I love you._

I gave him a small smile, the widest I could manage. _I love you more._

He stepped back as a guard closed the door, but his eyes held mine.

Then the carriage began to move, pulling me further and further away from him. I watched him through the window, as he watched me. Both of us refused to look away until we'd vanished from each other's sight.

**xxxxxxx**

Less than an hour later, I stood before the large tent that had been pitched for the negotiations. It's thick, gleaming fabrics of blue and gold bore the Hyrulean royal crest: a flaming red phoenix guarding the golden Triforce—three unified triangles which symbolized the three goddesses: Din the Goddess of Power, Nayru the goddess of Wisdom, and Farore the Goddess of Courage.

My guards had remained at my side since I'd left the carriage, and two more had been stationed near the tent entrance. Two Vandelian guards, fully armed in showy Vandelian plate mail, stood opposite of them. The air was thick with tension—animosity, even. I feared it would worsen once I stepped inside the tent.

Seven years had passed since Ashton had been forced out of my life, but I vividly remembered the day he was forced off the castle grounds. I remembered the way he'd looked up toward the very window I had stood behind, his face twisting into a viscous scowl. His expression had frightened me, but I stood my ground, refusing to show any more fear. The breaking of our engagement had led to five terrible years of war, and now I would face him again.

Gathering my courage, I pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside.

Two torches lit the tent's spacious interior, illuminating the great rug which covered the ground. A small wooden table stood at the center, and behind it sat the man I had once called my betrothed. My eyes adjusted as he slowly rose to his feet, watching with hungry emerald eyes.

For a moment we stood in mutual silence, grudgingly appraising the other. Now a man of twenty-seven years, I could see Ashton had physically matured since our last meeting. His features seemed sharper than I remembered, his cheekbones more defined. His long, dark red hair was pulled back into a long tail, though a stray lock fell along the left side of his face, curling in toward his well defined chin.

I could not deny Ashton was a handsome man, yet his features lacked genuine warmth and charm—something that made Link so very attractive.

"My dear Zelda," he finally spoke, his low voice sending an unpleasant chill down my spine, "it has been far too long."

Less courteous retorts gathered on my tongue, but I suppressed the urge to speak them.

"Time has been kind to you," he added smoothly. "You look positively ravishing."

"Flattery will gain you nothing, Ashton."

"Tut tut, must you be so cold?" he spread his hands innocently. "I've come in peace, after all."

"You can hardly expect me to greet you with a smile, Ashton, especially after your offensive letter. Surely you know Vandelius is in no position to make such demands from us."

"I've agreed to meet here, haven't I?"

"A wise decision. You also understand that, by choosing to compromise and host a rendezvous, we have expressed a sincere effort to maintain peace?"

"You speak as though my actions require tolerance."

Angrily I strode forward, stopping so I faced him across the table.

"I speak, _Ashton_, of the utter disregard you showed my husband."

I expected him to scowl, to frown, to show some sort of anger, but he instead he gave a mere shrug.

"I recognize no husband of yours."

"Don't play games with me," I snapped. "I honored your demands this far, for the sake of peace. But if these negotiations must continue beyond this meeting, my husband will be present."

"Hold your tongue, Zelda," Ashton said, anger finally coloring his tone. "From this brief exchange I can see my initial suspicions were correct. You truly have no idea what's happened, do you?"

I stared at him, my brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

He gave me a cold look before turning to pace the tent.

"Three nights ago," he began, "two villages, two peaceful, prospering villages on the outskirts of Vandelius were attacked and burned to the ground. Many innocent lives were taken; children made orphans. The few who managed to survive," he added, his voice slowing dramatically, "identified the attackers as Hylian soldiers."

Icy fear swept through me, but I suppressed it with disbelief.

"It grieves me to hear of such a terrible loss," I said carefully. "But you need stronger evidence before you accuse my soldiers of such a crime. How could anyone identify the attackers in the dark of night?"

"The soldiers wore the traditional armor of the Royal Hylian Army," Ashton refuted. "It would seem they wished to make a statement, since they left something rather important behind." He reached for his travel bag, which lay on the table nearby. I watched as he pulled out a bundle of dark blue cloth and tossed it to me.

"There," he said. "There is your proof."

Nervously I reached for the cloth, hoping he wouldn't notice my trembling hands as I unfolded the material. I noticed it was soiled and burned in some places, but the symbol it bore was still recognizable. I nearly gasped when I saw it.

"Our banner," I whispered. "This cannot be…"

"I sent you that letter with good intentions, Zelda," Ashton said, his eyes fixed upon my troubled face. "And this is the response I get?"

"This must be some kind of mistake," I stammered. "I gave no order for any sort of attack. For all we know, those men could have been bandits masquerading as soldiers!"

"And how would they have gotten hold of this fine banner?" Ashton inquired, fingering the thick material. "This is no replica."

I could not deny his claim. Upon closer examination, I could see the fabrics and the complex stitching met the high quality standards for our official banners.

But those were kept in a secure safe—no one but Link, myself, or the Council could access them. From what I could remember, all of them had been accounted for...unless this one had somehow been lost?

"You can't possibly think I had anything to do with this," I said, failing to conceal my anxiousness. "I will have a complete investigation carried out—"

"I do not believe you are responsible."

I looked at him, remembering to mask my emotions.

"I know you would never attack my kingdom for any reason," he told me. "But I cannot say the same for your so-called husband."

At first I could only stare, baffled by the absurdity of his accusation. The feeling quickly changed to fear, however, as I realized how very delicate the situation had become.

"How dare you accuse him," I whispered—mostly because my voice had all but vanished. "Link would never bring harm to innocent lives."

"Spare me, Zelda. He is your general after all. It would make perfect sense for this to be his doing, considering our history…"

"You're wrong. Link would _never_ bring a personal matter to the battlefield."

"Was he not infuriated by my letter?" Ashton paced the tent as though he hadn't heard me. "I requested your presence alone, after all; that would infuriate any man in his place."

"Don't try to act like you know him," I snapped.

"I imagine he must be under an unusual amount of stress," Ashton replied, casting me a sly look, "being such a failure of a consort."

"My husband has never failed at anything."

"Except fathering a child, perhaps."

The blood drained from my face, though part of me had expected such a low blow. Years ago, during our courtship, Ashton had often spoken of the "sons" I would bear him. His words, sugar-coated as they had been, had unnerved me at times, mostly because my views on the matter had been so quickly brushed aside. Large families were important in Vandelian culture, but for all the wrong reasons. Multiple children, especially sons, implied wealth and good fortune. I imagined Ashton drew immense satisfaction at seeing me childless nearly two years into my marriage.

"That is none of your concern."

"Oh, but it is, Zelda. Especially when you hear what I have to offer."

"A compromise?" I inquired, eyeing him dubiously.

"That and more."

Slowly he moved around the table, stepping so close I had to lift my chin to meet his gaze.

"I don't understand," I said coldly.

"Not only can I clear up this little mess of ours, but I can help strengthen Hyrule's weakened reputation."

I narrowed my eyes. "Our reputation needs no strengthening."

"Come now, Zelda, surely you've heard the talk. You broke the old traditions by marrying that peasant. The Alliance is none too pleased with your decision."

Inwardly I sighed, weary of discussing the worn subject of my marriage.

"We have a wise saying among us Hylians," I said calmly. "One the noble houses like to forget. It goes, 'Judge not one's worth by circumstance of birth.' It's unfortunate that so many remain blinded by such prejudice—yourself included, Ashton."

"Status cannot be earned, Zelda!" he exclaimed, smacking his hand against the table. "You know as well as I that nobility is granted to those worthy of it. Allowing peasants to seize power brews anarchy!"

I shook my head at his reddened face, fighting the urge to laugh. "Don't be absurd. Link has no desire to seize power; he lives to serve his kingdom."

"You're the absurd one. Your marriage is forbidden—cursed, even. Why do you think your gods deny you an heir?"

His words struck hard, but I steeled myself against them. This was easier to do when he acted so childishly.

"We're deviating from the subject yet again, Ashton," I said dryly. "What is this compromise you propose?"

"It is no longer a proposal, Zelda," he growled. "Now it's an ultimatum."

He snatched my arm, his abrupt force making me wince with pain.

"You will divorce that rogue you call husband," he hissed, his breath hot on my cheek, "and fulfill what should have been… with _me_."

Furiously I tore away from him. "Have you completely lost your mind?" I exclaimed. "Marriage is out of the question!"

He stepped closer, his face dark with anger.

"You may want to reconsider your refusal once you've heard my alternative."

"And that would be?"

His green eyes bore into mine, unblinking and cold.

"A declaration of war."


	5. Chapter V

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter V

I stared at him, struggling to believe my ears.

"You… you cannot be serious…"

"But I am."

"Can we not discuss this more thoroughly? This is an unjust course of action—I came here to maintain peace!"

"Yes, but that was before my people were attacked."

"You don't even know the truth behind those attacks—certainly not enough to declare war!"

"Oh, I think I do, Zelda. I have all the information I need."

Blood pounded in my ears as I struggled to hold my ground. Beneath my assertive facade I panicked, desperate to change his mind.

"You have no solid evidence. You're using this declaration of war to force marriage upon me—that was the entire purpose of this rendezvous, wasn't it? To shove this proposal in my face?"

"This is the only agreement I'll settle for."

"It won't work, Ashton. Even your threats of war won't pressure me into an annulment. You have no right to make such a demand."

"I have every right!" he snapped, his eyes blazing with anger. "I am a king of pure blood, and you were promised to me since birth! Our kingdoms should have merged years ago!"

I shook my head, biting back the word _pathetic._ For seven long years he had clung to this dream, waiting for his moment to take it all back.

"That arrangement was broken years ago, Ashton. I've pledged myself to another, and it cannot—will not—be undone. You must accept this."

His green eyes held me in a cold glare before he silently reached for his travel bag.

"I've called your bluff, Ashton," I said. "Let's stop this talk of war and discuss the situation reasonably."

"You foolish girl," he growled. "This is no bluff."

Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a neatly rolled scroll. "I figured you would refuse me, so I prepared ahead of time. Here is the official declaration, already approved by my Council."

I took the scroll with a trembling hand, feeling the sky had crashed down upon me. Over and over the words echoed through my mind. _This cannot be… This cannot be…_

Ashton must have noticed, for he clicked his tongue in a sympathetic manner.

"Dear Zelda, it doesn't have to be like this," he murmured.

My eyes met his, and slowly he trailed his fingers along my troubled face. "Say you'll be mine, and I can make this all go away…"

I slapped his hand away.

"You go too far," I whispered. "You will regret this."

Then I turned and strode out of the tent.

"Mount your horses—quickly!" I ordered my guards. "We are finished here. Clean up this place and return to the castle. There will be no further negotiations."

My actions had clearly confused them, but I had no time for questions. I boarded the carriage and ordered them to drive with haste.

"Make for my husband's camp—as quickly as possible!" I directed.

They obeyed and urged the horses to pick up speed. I drew the curtains, enclosing myself in private darkness. Then, forming a small flame in my palm, I unrolled the scroll and read through it, just to confirm it was real. The signatures of Ashton's Council lined the bottom, and next to them I saw Ashton's larger signature, complete with the Vandelian seal.

Tears stung my eyes as I cast the parchment aside. It was official: Hyrule was, once again, at war with Vandelius.

I buried my face in my hands, struggling to breathe evenly. _I've failed, I've failed… _My sobs remained trapped in my throat, and I feared I might be sick.

"_Zelda?" _Link's urgent voice echoed through my mind. "_What's wrong? _

I shook my head and closed my eyes.

"_I…I'll tell you when I get there,"_ I managed to reply._ "I'm on my way now."_

"_Are you hurt?" _Panic filled his voice.

"_No, I… Just wait until I arrive. Please."_

Reluctantly, he left me to my thoughts. Little time passed before we reached his camp, but my fear consumed me nonetheless. The sudden opening of the carriage door startled me—I hadn't even felt it stop. Sunlight flooded the interior, and a familiar voice addressed me.

"Zelda?"

Quickly I grabbed Ashton's scroll and moved for the door, which Link held open for me. He offered his hand to help me down, but in my anxiousness I stumbled on my long skirts. Link caught me before I could fall, and for a moment I held on to him, feeling the knot in my chest loosen at his touch—if only slightly.

"What happened?" he breathed, pulling away to meet my gaze. "You're back so early; what happened?"

Wordlessly I thrust the wrinkled declaration into his hands, watching the shock line his face as he read it.

"A declaration of war…" He looked up, his eyes full of questions—questions I lacked the strength to answer. Link understood this and turned to address the concerned guards.

"Gentlemen," he said, his voice steady but urgent, "according to this parchment, which bears Ashton's seal and signature, we are at war with Vandelius."

Eyes widened and jaws fell, but no one spoke a word. The silence was deafening. Link allowed them a moment but then gave orders, ignoring their horrified expressions.

"Ready the horses; I ride for the castle immediately. Two of you will come with me, and the rest will guard her Majesty—"

"Hold that order."

Link turned to me, but I silenced him with a sharp look.

"I will ride for the castle as well," I informed them. "Since there are only four horses, two of you will accompany us, and the others must return by carriage. You," I added, pointing to the nearest guard, "see that my travel bag is firmly attached to my saddle."

With hasty salutes, the guards rushed to carry out their orders.

"Zelda," Link caught my wrist when I avoided his gaze, "you can't possibly ride in that gown; you already tripped on it leaving the carriage—"

He broke off when my hand shot toward his waist, grabbing the knife on his belt. Unsheathing it, I bent down and cut two slits through the hems of my skirts. I then placed the knife between my teeth and tore at the fabric, ripping it up toward my thighs. Satisfied that my now tattered gown would no longer hinder my riding, I straightened and handed Link his knife. He looked startled but offered no further argument. I hadn't meant to be so cold, but I felt numb with shock, unable to act normally.

Within minutes we had mounted and started toward Castletown at top speed—Link in the lead. The ride would be long and hard, but we would endure it without complaint. War was upon us; the nightmare had only begun.

**xxxxxxx**

We arrived at the castle on the evening of the third day. Everyone was shocked to see us return so soon—and in such a state. We hadn't even dismounted before I ordered an immediate council meeting.

Link and I had telepathically communicated the details during our return journey, so he knew everything I did—almost everything. He had fervently denied his soldiers would commit such a crime, but I sensed the possibility troubled him.

I intended to keep the meeting brief, as we had very little time to prepare. Ashton would need time to return to Vandelle and gather his own troops, but there was no knowing when he would strike.

"I won't mince words," I told the Council. "Ashton holds a personal vendetta against Hyrule, and he has seized this opportunity to act upon it."

Rising to my feet, I tossed the scroll onto the table.

"Councilors," I strained to deliver the words with strength, "we are at war with Vandelius."

They all reacted with shock, some more vocally than others. The only one who masked her response completely was Impa—seemingly. Having known her so many years, I recognized stunned disbelief in her stony expression.

"This is an outrage," Kinsley exclaimed. "Does Ashton wish for another Retaliation War?"

"The negotiations were brief," I added. "I offered to conduct a full investigation on the attacks, but Ashton refused to consider alternative solutions."

"You mean to say he came all that way and feigned interest in negotiations just to declare war?" Vasilis exclaimed. "He offered no other option?"

I hesitated, reluctant to mention Ashton's proposal.

"Ashton…brought his personal desires into the negotiations. He offered only one alternative… One I could not accept."

The ministers waited for me to elaborate, and I knew I could not keep my secret. Even Link had turned to me with confusion.

"He demanded my hand in marriage," I said quietly.

Murmurs filled the chamber, but I focused on Link's thoughts, on the shame I felt from him. I tried to meet his gaze, but he looked away. One of his worst fears had been realized; nothing I said would comfort him.

_I'm sorry;_ _I should have told you. I wasn't thinking straight._

Link did not respond, but I was relieved to feel his bitterness fade. He had suppressed it for the time being—we had far more important matters to address.

"The troops will be ready by nightfall," Kinsley spoke up, jumping to the point as he always did. "But they could use a good night's rest before departure…"

"We should dispatch a company of sentinels tonight," Link suggested. "The rest of the troops can follow at dawn—if her Majesty approves."

He turned to meet my gaze, and I recognized the determined light in his eyes. I gave him a solemn nod.

"The preparations should begin immediately," I said. "Lord Kinsley, General," my eyes moved from the minister to Link. "I leave the rest in your hands."

.

After the meeting adjourned, Link took my arm and led me out of the chamber, Impa following close behind.

"Zelda, you're exhausted," he said, knowing the words would irritate me. "You need your rest."

"You're the one who needs rest," I argued quietly, pulling my arm away. "I will sleep when I wish to."

"You should at least bathe and change your gown," Impa said, eyeing my torn, dirty clothes. "A queen must look presentable at all times. Seeing you like this will only promote fear throughout the castle."

"Even I plan to wash up, Zelda," Link offered.

"All right, I'll clean myself up," I caved. "But I'll retire when I see fit."

They seemed to accept that, despite the concerned look they exchanged. Gently I cupped Link's cheek, turning his face back to mine.

"I hope you intend to get some sleep before dawn," I said softly.

"I will; I promise." He studied my face, and I sensed him probing my mind. "Promise me you'll stop blaming yourself," he murmured, reaching for my hand.

I shook my head and pulled away, moving on toward the stairwell. Unable to follow, Link tried to comfort me telepathically, but I quickly blocked him out. His tenderness pained me; I didn't deserve it.

His thoughts faded with a trace of sadness, still present but focused on more immediate tasks. He had declined to form his own mental block, which only added to my guilt.

Impa, however, fell in step beside me and said nothing as we walked the spacious corridors. I was grateful for her silence; I had no energy for conversation.

When we reached my chambers, I was not surprised to find maids moving in and out of the rooms. I assumed they had begun preparations since my arrival.

"Welcome home, your Majesty," one of the older maids greeted me with a curtsy. "Your bath is ready for you, and we've laid out some fresh clothes for you to choose from. Is there anything else you require?"

"No, thank you. You may go."

They each curtsied and hurried out into the hall, closing the door quietly behind them. Impa flicked the lock and then came to me, pulling me into her arms. Gratefully I returned her embrace, burying my face against her breast.

"I didn't know what to do," I told her, my voice trembling. "It was either marry him or go to war; he offered no alternatives… He wouldn't listen to reason…"

"Shh," Impa soothed, stroking my dirty, tousled hair. "There was nothing you could have done. I know that, Link knows that, and so does the Council."

"But now our people have to face another war… Link has to go fight again… Impa, this is all my fault…"

"Nonsense. What else could you have done, marry him? The fault lies with Ashton. Honestly, I'm amazed his Council has allowed this…"

A cold sense of foreboding settled over me, and I hugged her tighter, drawing comfort from her familiar, motherly touch.

"Now you go step into that warm bath," she murmured. "You'll feel better afterward. There's a potion for you in there too; be sure to drink that first. It will help clear your head."

I did as told, slowly moving toward the bathroom. Inside I found several candles had been lit for me—some were even Gerudo scented, designed to soothe the spirit. I knew the maids had gone out of their way to make me comfortable, and I appreciated their thoughtfulness. A small vial stood on the table, and quickly I downed the liquid inside, not bothering to cringe at its bitter taste.

Then I removed my clothing and carefully stepped into the spacious bathtub, hissing as the hot water stung my skin. My body soon adjusted, and I welcomed its soothing warmth. With a sigh I leaned back against the wall, trying to relax. But too many terrible thoughts occupied my mind. A bottomless, all-consuming pit had opened up inside me, and I knew it would remain until the war ended. I had endured it before.

What awaited me was nothing compared to the turmoil Link would face. Once again I would send him to the battlefield; once again he would face the horrors of war. He'd be torn from my side, torn from the comforts of our life together, and there was no knowing whether he'd return.

A sob escaped my lips as I drew my knees up against my chest. I'd held it in for days; I could suppress it no longer. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I buried my face against my knees and wept. My sobs echoed through the large room, witnessed only by the flickering candles.

Soon I began to feel drained, and slowly I leaned back against the wall, unable to fight my exhaustion. Within moments I was sinking down, down…

.

_He sat huddled against the wall, shivering in his dark, dank prison cell. Heavy shackles bound his wrists and ankles, glinting faintly in the dim torchlight. Grief seized me the moment I laid eyes on his half-naked form. I sank to my knees before him, grasping the rusted bars._

_I could see he'd been beaten several times. Countless bruises covered his body, as well as multiple cuts in various stages of healing. He appeared frighteningly thin, most likely on the brink of starvation. Seeing his beautiful face bear unnaturally prominent cheekbones, sunken eyes, and cracked lips brought me anguish. I could only imagine the torment he'd endured._

"_Link..." _

_Tears slid down my face as I reached through the bars, aching to touch him. But my hand passed right through him, and Link showed no sign of response. I found it cruel that I could touch everything but him. To make matters worse, I could not sense our telepathic bond. He was but a ghost to me._

"_Link," I whispered again, hoping he could at least hear me, "darling, what has happened to you?"_

_No response. He appeared to be asleep, as his eyes were closed, but I couldn't be sure. His furrowed brow and shallow, uneven breaths suggested he was in pain. My eyes flicked to the lock on his cell, and quickly I moved to grab it—_

_A terrible, piercing scream tore through the silence, and I fell back with a cry, thrashing about as I desperately covered my ears. The sound came from all directions, pressing against me, pulling me apart…_

_Then finally it stopped. I lay there, gasping for breath as the haunting echo died. The sound had come from a ReDead; I could hear them groaning in the other cells. Never had I encountered one with a scream so terrible._

"_Link," I gasped, forcing myself to my knees and crawling back toward his cell. He lay on his side, his legs folded up against his chest. His hands remained pressed to his ears, and he took quick, shuddering breaths. Again I reached for the lock on his cell, desperate to free him from his place of torment._

_But my hand passed through the lock as well, and I screamed in frustration. I could only witness the events around me, not alter them._

_Painfully I watched as Link struggled to a sitting position. I could see streaks in the dirt on his face—evidence of his tears. Slowly he lifted his left hand toward his face, trembling as he touched his second smallest finger. My heart lurched when I realized why—his wedding ring was gone. In his weary, dirtied face I saw both confusion and despair._

_Before I had time to ponder this, the door at the far end of the corridor swung open. I jumped at the abrupt sound, but somehow the ReDeads did not shriek. A figure cloaked and hooded in black strode forward; a ring of keys clinked in his hand. The air, if possible, grew colder as he drew near, and I found myself backing away._

_He paused before Link's cell and promptly unlocked the door. It swung open with a loud _creak_._

_Link remained on the floor, sitting with his head bowed. He showed no acknowledgment of his captor._

"_Get up," the man ordered. His voice carried a chill far colder than the air._

_Link did not move._

"_I won't say it again."_

_Again Link ignored him. With a growl the man rushed forward and grabbed him by the hair._

"_Enjoy these little acts of resistance while you can," he hissed. "I'll break you soon enough."_

_To my surprise, Link spat in his face. The man released him with a roar, wiping his face with his sleeve—apparently Link had got him in the eye._

"_Always the hard way with you," he growled, reaching into his pocket. I failed to see the item he'd pulled out before he immediately thrust it against Link's neck. A strange sort of energy—one I recognized as dark magic—jolted through Link, causing him to scream and writhe in pain. My hands flew to my mouth, muffling my cries._

"_Is this what you want?" the man shouted. "You wish to die and leave her to her fate?"_

_Link couldn't have answered if he wanted to. His screams filled the prison chamber, ripping at the very core of me. I fell to my knees and sobbed, unable to bear the scene any longer…_

.

"Zelda? Zelda, answer me!"

My eyes flew open to the sound of Impa knocking against the bathroom door. Quickly I scrambled out of the bath, slopping soapy water all over the floor. Not bothering to dry off, I threw on my robe and flung the door open. Impa nearly toppled into me.

"Did you fall asleep in there?" she demanded. "Look at you; you're soaking—"

"Impa," I grabbed her by the arms. "Impa, you must find Link. Bring him to me immediately."

"Link?" Confusion filled her crimson eyes. "Zelda, he's still busy with—"

"I don't care; I must speak with him now!" The words had barely left my mouth when I felt a familiar pulse in the connection. "Never mind," I said, releasing her arms. "He's coming."

Seconds later the door opened, and Link—looking much cleaner in his military uniform—stepped inside.

"Zelda—" His eyes took in my soaked state. "What is going on?"

"Link." I rushed forward and threw my arms around him, holding him tightly.

Somewhat startled, he slowly returned my embrace.

"Could you give us a minute or two?" he asked Impa over my shoulder.

"As long as you need," she said, closing the door behind her.

"What has gotten into you?" he murmured, rubbing my back as I shivered in his arms. "I felt such distress coming from you, but you wouldn't answer when I called you…"

He moved to fetch me a blanket, but I urgently grabbed his arms, turning his face to mine.

"Link," I whispered, my eyes boring into his, "you must not go to war."

His anger burned through me, provoked by my seemingly inconsiderate words. It soon faded, however, and when he spoke his voice was calm.

"Zelda, you know I can't do that."

"Just moments ago I had a vision—a real premonition, Link." I struggled to keep the panic from my voice. "Believe me when I say this war will be the death of you."

His demeanor changed. Although his face betrayed no clear expression, his fear filled my mind.

"What did you see?" he murmured.

In a trembling voice I told him the contents of my vision. Link listened intently, still wearing his guarded expression. Once I had finished, he turned to gaze out a nearby window, deep in thought. Finally he bowed his head and sighed.

"It is not enough."

I blinked, certain I had misheard him.

"What did you say?"

"It's not enough," he repeated, turning to face me. "Your vision is incomplete. You saw nothing of battle, nothing of Ashton, even. You have no proof that I will die in this war. It seems…irrelevant to our current situation."

"_Irrelevant?_"I cried. "Premonitions rarely give all the answers, Link; it is a matter of filling in the blanks! You were clearly a prisoner of war!"

"You have not seen enough to draw that conclusion."

"I have seen more than enough! How can you take this so lightly?"

He avoided my fierce glare, choosing not to reply.

"So my vision means nothing to you," I said coldly.

"I didn't say that," he replied, his voice strangely hollow. "I said it's not enough to stop me from going to war."

"So now my premonitions are sheer paranoia? Just a silly dream to brush aside?"

Link shot me a hurt expression.

"I have always taken your visions seriously, Zelda; that has been true since the day we met. I believed you when your own father didn't."

"And now you tell me this one is irrelevant," I snapped. "You told me I would know when to act, and I know that time is now!"

"Do you even realize what you're asking of me?" he demanded. "You're asking me to abandon my soldiers, to stay behind where it's safe… to do just what they find the courage _not_ to do!" He shook his head in aggravation. "Zelda, I won't do that!"

"But this is different—"

"It's not _enough_, darling…" he pleaded. "Please, try to understand… Don't fight me over this…"

"_Fight_ you? I'm trying to _protect_ you! If you would just let me—"

"_No_, Zelda!"

My words died on my lips. I fixed him with a cold gaze, willing him to see my frustration. Somewhere inside I noticed how exhausted he appeared, but my desperation crushed my guilt.

"I am the leader of Hyrule's military forces," he said in a hushed voice. "It is my duty to lead our soldiers into battle—to defend our kingdom. I cannot—will not—cower from that duty, not for any reason."

I stared at him, struggling to resist the painful truth of his words.

_Duty before desire._

All my life I'd been taught to live by that rule. No matter how strongly I wished to, I had no right to relieve Link of his duties. My vision was not yet clear enough to keep him off the battlefield.

Still, I couldn't help feeling some anger toward him. He showed almost no reluctance.

"Hang your cursed duties!" I cried, thrusting reason aside. "This is your life we're talking about! You'd be so quick to abandon me?"

He reached for me, wanting to comfort me, but I pushed him away.

"Go then!" I snapped. "Go preserve your precious honor!"

Link grabbed my arms, pulling me to him with a strength I couldn't hope to overcome. I struggled in his arms, but to no avail.

"Don't do this," he pleaded, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Please, Zelda, not now, when I need you most…"

The next thing I knew I was sobbing against him, clutching his uniform as though he could slip away at any moment.

"Please," I begged him. "Please don't go…"

He held me tighter, stroking my wet hair.

"It kills me to refuse you," he whispered. "You know I would do anything for you, but it can't always be that simple…"

I lifted my head from his shoulder, gazing up at him through my tears.

"I can't lose you," I choked. "I couldn't bear it…"

Link cradled my face in his gloved hands, thumbing away my tears as he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to my lips.

"You won't lose me," he murmured. "I swear it."

It was an empty promise, one he had no power to make, and I took no comfort in it. Link knew this, but there was nothing left to say. Wanting to see me warm and dry, he lifted me into his arms and carried me into the bedroom. I clung to him, burying my face against his shoulder as I swallowed my defeat.


	6. Chapter VI

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter VI

I woke to a dark and deathly quiet room. Slowly I sat up, taking care not to wake the sleeping form beside me—

His side was empty.

This did not startle me; I sensed he was nearby. I turned my head and found him sitting by the balcony doors, gazing into the night. He had pulled the drapes aside, taking care not to shed moonlight over the bed and wake me. I could not see his face, but his hair shone silver in the lunar glow.

Quietly I climbed out of bed and went to him. He sensed my approach and reached for me, wordlessly inviting me to sit with him. I settled onto his lap and lay my head against his shoulder, melting into his shape. He held me close, caressing my back as I waited for him to speak.

"Sometimes I think I'm crazy," he murmured, his voice low from lack of use, "going to war like this. I have so much to live for, so much to lose."

I trailed my fingers along his chest, unsure of what to say.

"I love my life," he continued softly, running his fingers through my hair. "I love our people, our friends… I love you more than anything. The last thing I want to do is leave you."

I swallowed and closed my eyes, burying my face against his throat.

"But I know that's selfish," he admitted. "If every soldier gave in to those kinds of thoughts, we'd have no one to defend our kingdom."

"Love can be selfish in that way," I murmured. "I'm sure you're not the only one having such thoughts."

Link paused a moment, then kissed my forehead.

"This is the only way I can protect you," he said softly. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you and our people safe."

I sighed and sat up, taking his face in my hands.

"Talking won't make this any easier," I whispered.

Then I slid off his lap and tugged at the sleeve of his robe, giving him a subtle, pleading look. Willingly he rose to his feet, slipping off his robe and draping it over chair. Then I led him to the bed, pushing back the covers and urging him to lie down. Then I knelt beside him on the bed, watching his face as I smoothed his hair back from his forehead. He gazed up at me with sad eyes, closing them when I bent down to kiss him.

What began as pure tenderness quickly escalated into more urgent affections. Link tried to sit up and switch positions, but I pushed him back down, straddling him as I hungrily sought his lips. His hands ran over my hips and up along my back, making me shiver with pleasure.

"I want to remember you like this," he whispered against my cheek. "When we're apart…"

"Shh," I silenced him with another kiss. "Don't think about that now."

But I shared his anxiousness. This would be the first war we faced as husband and wife. The Retaliation War had been difficult enough, but since then we had become intimately bound, two halves of a whole. Just imagining the lonely nights I'd lay awake without him pained me.

Link would not spend every moment wishing he was home. He was not an unwilling soldier. He firmly believed in his duties, and he would fulfill them as best he could. His uniform was but a costume, since, as the chosen Hero, he had been destined to guard Hyrule since birth.

While the warrior in him relished a good fight, warfare was something he endured. Beneath that quiet, stoic exterior was a man who loved as fiercely as he fought. A terrific fire blazed within him, but beyond those flames lay the kindest, gentlest soul I had ever known.

Link had been fourteen years old when he first joined the military, a young teen who had yet to prove his worth. War had befallen Hyrule at the time, and Link had willingly stepped forward to fight, ever faithful to the call of duty. As the Hero who ended the Imprisoning War—a war fated to never appear in our history books—Link had believed he was well equipped to face the battlefield. I had worried about his naivety but never expressed it. He had been so confident, so determined; I couldn't bear to dampen his spirits.

His first battle had resulted in victory, but not without heavy casualties on both sides. I remembered the aftermath like it happened yesterday. I, a princess of thirteen years, had pushed my way through the crowded war camp, eagerly searching for my best friend. I finally found him alone in one of the tents, huddled on the ground and wrapped in a large blanket. I had approached him slowly, shocked to see him in such a pained state. His eyes remained downcast as I knelt beside him, staring distantly at the ground.

"_Taryn died." _His voice had trembled, and I had strained to make out his hushed words. _"Gareth and Markus too."_

"_I heard. I'm so sorry, Link."_

He had swallowed, unable to look at me.

"_I… I didn't think it would be like this…"_

I had ached with sympathy. In his experience, Link had slain monsters, creatures with no souls. Never had he taken the lives of so many men. Never had he been forced to keep fighting, to keep killing, no matter how many friends died at his side. It was a new and disturbing experience for him, especially at such a young age.

Uncertain of what to say, I had gently pulled him closer, urging him to rest against my shoulder. Link had stiffened at my touch but then gave in, closing his eyes as I stroked his hair.

"_Stay with me,"_ he pleaded, his voice little more than whisper.

"_I'm right here."_

Link's military performance had suffered in the days following that battle, something that had not escaped Captain Shayne's attention. He had noticed Link's unique skill from the start, and he understood the reasons behind his sudden struggle. The captain had taken Link under his wing, determined to make a Lieutenant out of him. He taught Link to strengthen his inner defenses against the cruelty of war—to not only to conceal his pain but resist it. Link had taken great strides under Shayne's guidance, and just two years later he became Lieutenant of the Fifth Company.

Shayne had come to be like a father to Link, but their time together had lasted only two years. The captain's sudden and tragic death had deeply affected Link, but he refused to forget everything Shayne taught him. He continued to perform admirably, keeping his grief well hidden. In time he became an example of unwavering courage, earning his fellow soldiers' loyalty and respect.

.

My thoughts returned to the present, aided by Link's hand moving up the back of my neck and through my long, tousled hair. I sighed against his throat, running my hands over his pectoral and abdominal muscles. My fingers brushed a larger scar near his heart—all that remained of his near-fatal wound from the Retaliation War. I kissed it softly, then moved to another, pressing my lips to every visible scar he bore. They were proof of his bravery, evidence of the pain he'd endured. I knew he would suffer new ones; even Link did not leave the battlefield unscathed…

Tired of yielding all control to me, Link sat up and gently forced me onto my back. I went willingly, moaning when he trailed kisses along my neck and down over my belly.

"I so wish I could give you a child," he breathed, running his fingers along my abdomen, "in case this is my last chance…"

"Please don't talk like that..."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, nuzzling my face. "I can't help it. If I don't… you'll have to—"

I pressed my fingers to his lips, my eyes glinting with tears.

"Just come back to me," I whispered, holding his head against my breast. "Come home, and then we can have our baby."

He lifted his head with a sigh, stroking my hair back and kissing me deeply. I wound my arms around his neck, arching against him in a silent plea for more. Soon the moon would set, dawn would color the sky, and the call of duty would pry him from my arms once again. But he was mine until that hour came, and I would savor every moment we had.

**xxxxxxx**

King Ashton sat alone in his chambers, staring into the dying embers of his fireplace. Outside his windows there rose an inky sky, veiled in starlight.

Of course he had tried to rest. Battling fatigue on his way to war would be most unwise. His army would depart for Hyrule within hours, and he knew the enemy would be ready to meet them.

But the soldiers did not concern him at such a late hour. No, the one who dominated his thoughts—the one responsible for his insomnia—was their queen.

_Zelda…_

He had been unable to take his mind off her since the rendezvous. Seven long years had passed since he last laid eyes on her, and the changes in her appearance had surprised him. She had been a sixteen-year-old girl the last time he saw her—a very pretty girl, yes, but barely more than a child. Now every trace of that childish youth had gone from her face, leaving a stunningly beautiful young woman.

Ashton's long suppressed desire for her had come flooding back. Never had he wanted Zelda as much as he did now. More than anything he longed to run his hands over her matured, perfect body… the body that should have been his.

Of course, she would never allow it. He had looked into her eyes—such a cold aquamarine glare they had cast—and he had seen her resentment. Her tone had been courteous, yet a chill had laced every word shaped by her luscious lips. That rebellious fire still burned within her, a quality that greatly intrigued Ashton. Such reckless independence did not suit women. Zelda was like a wild mare, beautiful but untamed. Ashton had always dreamed of breaking her. Nothing would satisfy him more than to see such a stunning, powerful woman flat on her back, willingly submitting to him.

For a long time he had dreaded the announcement of an heir to Hyrule's throne, but it had never come. Nearly two years passed, and Ashton's concerns had all but faded. In fact he took great pleasure in Zelda's predicament. It seemed that, by denying her offspring, fate itself had objected to her marriage. Ashton still had time to reclaim her.

Her so-called husband had always been an obstacle. Zelda had always been oddly close to him, even despite his common status. Their friendship had bothered Ashton, but Zelda had always dismissed it.

"_He's a dear friend; I won't deny that,"_ she had told him back in their days of courtship. _"But you're my betrothed, Ashton."_ She had given him that dazzling smile of hers. _"You're my future."_

The peasant—_Link_ was his name—had interfered only weeks before the wedding. Ashton had never actually seen them together, but he suspected Zelda's involvement with another. He had accused her of sleeping with Link, but she had fervently denied it, begging him not to make any public accusations. She had refused to identify her lover but promised to end the relationship.

Ashton believed she had been true to her word—her misery had convinced him. But then, just days after their engagement party, her father suddenly called the wedding off. The next thing Ashton knew, his engagement was severed, and he was banished from Hyrule.

Five years of war had followed, but that, too, had failed. Ashton had protested his father's decision to surrender, but to no avail. Even Ashton's loyal supporters grew tired of his resistance, and eventually he'd been forced to cope in silence.

His rage had never left him, however. It had festered for nearly two years, growing stronger as he waited for his moment to strike back. That moment came the day his father died—the day he inherited the throne of Vandelius.

Zelda had by then taken Link as her consort, something that caused a great deal of controversy among the kingdoms of the Alliance. Ashton had been careful about his response, deciding to restrain himself and quietly set about finding a way to sabotage her marriage. There were no grounds to declare war; the treaties prevented that course of action. So Ashton decided to have the treaties reexamined—it gave him the opportunity to meet with Zelda and possibly find a way to shatter the political barriers between them.

It was around that time that two villages near the northern border were attacked, and a golden opportunity fell right into Ashton's lap. For shortly before Ashton left for the rendezvous, he had received an unexpected visitor…

_Ashton started from the sudden knock at the door and scowled._

"_What is it?" he called, annoyed that anyone would disturb him at such a late hour._

_A guard entered and bowed. "We're terribly sorry to disturb you, your Majesty," he said, "but we have an intruder. He looks to be a Hylian nobleman."_

_A Hylian nobleman? Ashton rose from his seat, intrigued._

"_He's demanded an audience with you," the guard informed him. "Shall we put him in the dungeons?"_

"_No," Ashton said. "I will see this nobleman."_

_Two more guards thrust their captive into the room, forcing him to his knees. He was an older man, one Ashton recognized immediately._

"_Lord Vasilis… This is indeed unexpected."_

_Secretly he was pleased to see the minister; in the past Vasilis had always staunchly supported Ashton's union to Zelda. Why he would risk coming to Vandelius, Ashton could not fathom. Perhaps he'd brought good news?_

_The minister threw him a scowl._

"_If you would be so kind as to dismiss your guards."_

_Ashton crossed his arms and tilted his head, regarding the Hylian with suspicion._

"_And why should I do such a thing?" he inquired. "I could have you thrown in my dungeons for sneaking into my castle." He began to pace the room as he spoke. "Though I admit your presence does confuse me. Are you here to negotiate?"_

"_I've come to offer you an opportunity. A chance to regain everything you've lost."_

_Ashton stopped and turned to his captive, staring in disbelief._

"_Again you surprise me. You never struck me as the traitorous type."_

"_I have my reasons," Vasilis growled. "Are you interested or not?"_

_Ashton hesitated, feigning a look of annoyance._

"_How gullible do you think I am? You offer the impossible."_

"_Do honestly believe I would come all this way to trick you? Dismiss your guards, and I will show you a way to defeat the Hylian Army."_

_Ashton held his gaze for a long moment; Vasilis didn't even blink._

"_Leave us."_

_The guards obeyed, closing the door while Ashton lowered himself into a nearby armchair._

"_Sit," he ordered Vasilis, gesturing to a chair across from him._

_The older man complied, unfazed by the king's harsh tone._

"_Speak, Vasilis," Ashton fixed his emerald eyes upon the minister. "Astound me."_

_The minister leaned forward in his chair. "I know about the attacks," he said quietly._

_Anger jolted Ashton's senses._

"_Are you telling me you had something to do with that?" he hissed._

"_I was not the one who arranged the attacks. But I serve the one who did."_

_Ashton leapt out of his chair. "That _peasant_ arranged this?" he roared._

_Vasilis scowled. "Would you sit down? The General is many things, but he is not a warmonger. No, this is the work of my master, a gifted necromancer."_

_The king slowly sank into his chair. Necromancy was a branch of dark magic; that much he knew._

"_This man must pay for his crime."_

_Vasilis laughed. "With all due respect, your Majesty, you wouldn't stand a chance. My master acted in your best interests."_

_Ashton regarded him coldly. "My best interests? Have you lost your mind?"_

"_Your only hope of regaining what you've lost is victory through war. You've already arranged to rendezvous with the queen—the attacks are reason enough for you to declare war."_

_Ashton waved a dismissive hand. "The Council would never allow it; Vandelius is still recuperating from our last war."_

"_Oh, you don't spare a chance against the Hylian Army," Vasilis smirked, making Ashton's blood boil. "Not as you are, at least."_

"_You try my patience, Vasilis. Explain yourself."_

_The minister gave him a slow, dark smile._

"_I speak," he said, "of magic."_

_Ashton's breath caught in his throat. Magic. The mere word sent a wave of desire through him. For years the existence of magic had both intrigued and eluded him. He longed to wield its power, but, as a Vandelian, he could never cast even the smallest spell._

_Not wanting to appear too eager, he gave Vasilis a feigned look of exasperation._

"_And what would you know of magic?" he snapped. "You are no wizard, Vasilis." Hylians were a magical race, but only a rare few were actually born with the Gift. Zelda was one of these people, and so, rumor claimed, was her husband._

"_That is true," Vasilis admitted. "I do not have the Gift. And yet I traveled here through the use of magic."_

_Ashton's mask of indifference slipped away._

"_Teleportation," he breathed. "You teleported here?"_

"_Correct. Any other form of travel was out of the question."_

_Abandoning his previous façade, the king leaned forward with keen interest._

"_How is this possible?" he demanded. "How are you able to use magic so suddenly?"_

"_My master made it possible. But you do not require teleportation. In order to win this war, you require a weapon."_

_Ashton's eyes brightened with greed._

"_A weapon," he whispered. "What sort of weapon?"_

"_One that will guarantee your victory."_

"_I must know more. Tell me more about this weapon!"_

"_Careful, your Majesty," Vasilis warned. "My master will not simply hand this to you. He expects something in return of course."_

_The king's face darkened. "And what is that?"_

"_He wants the General. Alive. You must capture him in battle, and deliver him to a predetermined location."_

_Ashton hesitated, considering this price. The General was his archenemy—not only had he humiliated Ashton in battle, but he had taken Zelda for his own. For years Ashton had longed to run him through; delivering him alive would require immense restraint…_

_He would have to do his best._

_Ashton studied the minister with growing curiosity._

"_What can you gain from this treason?" he asked. "What grudge do you bear against your prince?"_

_Vasilis shook his head. "I bear no personal grudge. The way I see it, allowing him to remain prince would be the real treason. He is of common blood; he's a threat to the prosperity of my kingdom. The queen is too blinded by her love for him to see it. He must go."_

_Ashton scoffed in amusement. "Noble sentiments, I say. And why is this necromancer so interested in him?"_

"_Frankly, I don't care as long as he removes the General from the queen's life. Permanently."_

"_Agreed."_

_The firelight cast deep shadows across the minister's face as he studied the young king._

"_So what will it be?"_

_Ashton gazed toward the fire, pretending to consider the offer. His mind had already been made._

"_What must I do?"_

.

The minister had visited him again the following night, and, along with a short but specific list of demands, presented Ashton his weapon—a staff. At first Ashton had been disappointed. The weapon was hardly impressive in appearance, merely a wooden rod with strange symbols carved into it. Then Vasilis told him how to use it, and Ashton's disappointment had vanished.

He had presented the staff to his Council the following morning, declaring it would gain Vandelius a grand victory. Ashton had delivered a speech so passionate and so convincing that each minister had agreed to sign the Declaration of War.

The day of the rendezvous arrived shortly afterward. Although Ashton had already planned to declare war upon Hyrule, he had chosen to test the queen, offering peace for her hand in marriage. He'd been curious to see her reaction.

"_I've pledged myself to another,"_ she had told him,"_and it cannot—will not—be undone."_

In that moment, Ashton had understood Vasilis' concern; the woman's feelings for the peasant, whatever they were, had clearly affected her judgment. She would sooner go to war than take a more suitable husband.

Rising from his chair, Ashton moved into his bedroom, where he kept the staff locked away. Lifting it from its holder, he traced the carvings embedded into its smooth, wooden surface. He didn't understand any of them, but he knew the power they held—and how to control it. A slow smile curled his lips as he envisioned the victory he would soon claim.

At long last, his vengeance was at hand.

**xxxxxxx**

I stood in my satin robe, idly rubbing my arms as I watched Link pull on his boots. He wore a black tunic over a black shirt, simple attire for a prince, but the clothes would soon be covered anyway. Dawn was nearly upon us, and he was due at the armory. His attendants already waited outside our chamber door, having knocked just moments ago. My maids, too, would arrive any minute; I was to be properly dressed for the soldiers' departure.

Link rose to his feet, and quickly I grabbed his sword, handing it to him.

"Thank you," he murmured, giving me a strained smile.

Once he'd fastened the sword to his belt I rushed into his arms, hugging him tight around the waist. It was our last moment alone together before Link left for war.

"You'll keep me informed?" I whispered against his chest.

He held me close, resting his head against mine.

"As often as I can."

"You'll get enough sleep?"

"As much as I can."

Anxiously I reached up around his neck, nuzzling my face against his.

"Please don't do anything foolish," I begged him. "I want you home in one piece."

Another knock sounded. "Lord General?"

Link ignored them.

"I'll miss you so much," he whispered, resting his forehead against mine.

I swallowed, choking back a sob when his lips found mine. We kissed deeply, defying our fate just a moment longer. Only when a third knock came did he release me.

"I must go," he breathed, his sorrow drifting through our bond. "I'll see you at the gate."

He turned for the door but stopped when I caught his wrist, wanting one more. Just one more. Link pulled me to him, kissing me ardently before I finally, breathlessly let him go.

.

The soldiers' departure arrived within the hour. I joined them outside the castle gate, garbed in a formal crimson gown. The queen traditionally wore red when the soldiers left for war, something I had never found entirely agreeable. I disliked the color, mostly due to the meaning behind it. Power, blood, violence… I knew the color also represented love and passion, but not on a day such as this.

The dress lacked the grandeur of my other formal gowns, which I found appropriate for such a solemn event. I also appreciated its heavy material that cold, windy morning. My jeweled crown, which I wore only on formal occasions, completed my royal attire.

Dawn had begun to light the clouded sky, casting the mounted soldiers in dramatic silhouette. They sat proud and tall, lined in pairs and ordered by company. I couldn't see all seven, of course. Only a portion of the first—the finest—was visible; the rest waited far beyond my sight, past the training grounds and back to the North Gate.

They appeared so gallant, so mighty in their silver armor, but I saw the fear in their grim faces. They had said goodbye to their loved ones, and I knew some would never return. I longed to express my gratitude, to show how much I appreciated their bravery. In the end, I could only place medals around their necks… or flowers upon their graves.

I shivered, feeling cold both inside and out. A terrible knot had formed in my chest, and my throat burned with tears. Of course I concealed all of this. Outwardly I displayed solemn serenity, for the Queen must always appear calm and collected, no matter how much she hurt inside.

Footsteps sounded behind me—the general and his captain approached.

As always, my heart began to race the moment I laid eyes on the fully armored form of my husband. Quickly I averted my gaze to Clef, who approached me first. Garbed in the golden armor of superior officers and the captain's scarlet cape, he paused to give me a reverent bow. I acknowledged him with a nod, and he proceeded to mount his horse.

Then Link approached me, and I nearly forgot to breathe. Of course he looked magnificent in his own golden armor, so polished it gleamed with his every step. A deep blue cape billowed behind him, giving the Lord General, consort to the Queen, a genuine air of royalty. As always, Link carried himself with calm confidence, and when our eyes met I could barely keep my composure. Already my resolve was breaking, just at the mere sight of him.

_You're stronger than you know, _his voice echoed softly. _My Sheik of the Sheikah._

I looked into his eyes as he closed the space between us.

_That was another time_._ I don't remember how to be that person._

_You _are _that person, darling. Sheik was just a costume. That strength has never left you._

He took my hand and, with a slight bow, pressed a final kiss to my knuckles. It was a reverent, obligatory gesture to the queen, but he meant it with all his heart.

_Promise me you will never lose your fire. _His eyes held mine as he gave my hand a small squeeze. _No matter what happens._

I gazed back at him, my heart pounding in my throat. _That fire will die without you_, I wanted to say. Instead I swallowed and squeezed back.

_I will try_, I told him.

Satisfied with my answer, he gave a small nod and released my hand. I watched him walk away, resisting the urge to pull him back. One simple order, that's all it would take, and Link would be safe. But he was my husband, not my subject; I could not—would not—rule him.

_I love you, Link, _I called to him, letting my somber mask slip away.

He mounted and took Epona's reins before meeting my tearful gaze, the sad ghost of a smile on his lips. _I love you more._

Then he urged his mare into a steady walk, leading the soldiers toward Castletown as they followed in pairs. Before long he had vanished from my sight.

I remained standing by the gate until the very last soldier had gone. Impa lingered as my only company; the others had fled indoors to escape the icy wind. Finally she removed her cloak and placed it about my shoulders, gently urging me to come inside as well. I let her guide me back toward the castle, shivering not from the wind, but from the powerful sense of foreboding I felt within.


	7. Chapter VII

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter VII

Twelve days.

Twelve days had passed since the soldiers left for war, and I had yet to receive any word concerning their current status. Recent reports from sentinels posted in other villages had arrived, but so far not a single Vandelian soldier had appeared. The absence of a courier didn't necessarily call for alarm; there could be a number of reasons for the delay. But I worried nonetheless.

I spent most of my time locked in my study, attempting to distract myself with work, but my efforts proved ineffective. Even when I managed to focus on the papers stacked before me, I did not fully register them. I saw words but read nothing. My mind constantly wandered elsewhere, and I found myself wishing that I, too, could fight on the battlefield. My conflict with Ashton was personal—let _me_ draw my sword against him!

Of course, it was foolish to entertain such thoughts. I was a queen, not a soldier, and a queen must be kept safe at all times. Whether I liked it or not, I would remain trapped in this wretched phase of waiting until any potential danger had long ceased.

Often I would gaze out the window, searching for ways to aid my soldiers. I stood there now, watching the dreary afternoon rain. It fell steadily yet softly, a perfect reflection of my hushed apprehension. I had always found the rain soothing; it left me with a sense of tranquility. Today, however, it only saddened me. The silence of my study was not a peaceful one, but a lonely one.

I leaned my temple against the cool windowpane, watching water droplets lazily streak the glass. Sleep had continued to elude me the past several nights. My nightmares occurred nearly every night, and I always woke in tears. The loneliness of my chambers plagued me; I could find no rest without him.

Deciding it was useless to remain in my study—since I would do nothing but brood—I left to find some better distraction.

Solemnly I wandered the corridors, considering a stroll through the gardens. Before I could reach a decision, I heard loud voices drifting from the corridor leading to the dungeons. Curious, I followed the sound, rounding the corner to find three guards dragging a struggling young man. I was startled to see he wore a military uniform.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The guards looked up in surprise before dropping to their knees, forcing the captive to do the same. Quickly he ceased his struggles and stared at the floor.

"Your Majesty," one of the guards, a proud man by the name of Tarken, straightened to address me,"this man is guilty of desertion."

"No!" the younger man lifted his head, desperation lining his face. "It's not true!"

"Have you any evidence of this?" I questioned the guard calmly.

"Of course, your Majesty," he replied. "We have identified him as Adam Carlen, a soldier of the Seventh Company. We found him wandering the Field near Castletown on horseback. He claims to be a messenger of some sort, but carries no proof from a superior officer. We meant to inform Sir Ian as soon as—"

"No, I was sent here!" Carlen shouted. "I—I was sent here to warn your Majesty!"

My eyes moved to the soldier.

"To warn me?" I echoed, taking care to keep my voice calm. "Of what? Who sent you?"

"Your Majesty, he is clearly lying," Tarken injected. "As I said, he carries no official letter from a high ranking officer."

"There was no time!" Carlen defended. "I was sent directly from the battlefield—by the general himself!"

My heart jumped to my throat, but before I could question the boy a young maid came rushing down the corridor.

"Adam!" she cried. "Please don't hurt him!"

"Heather!" Carlen called to her, resuming his struggle against the guards.

"Calm yourself, soldier," I ordered him, mildly surprised at how rapidly the situation had escalated.

The girl called Heather turned to me, fear etched upon her young features.

"Please, your Majesty, Adam is not a criminal; please don't send him to the dungeons!"

"That has yet to be determined," I replied. "Tell me, Heather, how is it you know this man?"

"He is my betrothed." Gently, her gaze returned to Carlen, who watched us anxiously.

"I see," I murmured, feeling a twinge of sympathy. "Nevertheless, you must return to your duties while we continue this discussion."

"I...understand, your Majesty," she said with a curtsy. Then, casting one more worried glance at her fiancé, she reluctantly left the corridor.

"We will continue this matter in private," I informed the others. "Guard, see that Mistress Impa and Sir Ian join us."

The guard closest to me saluted and left while the rest of us headed for another room. Carlen followed in a nervous silence, something I found strange for one with an urgent message. The more I thought about it, the less likely his story seemed. Exactly what had this young man—barely out of boyhood—gotten himself into?

I led our party to what had always been called "the green room." As the name suggested, the chamber featured green walls and furniture, as well as an elaborate (but primarily green) rug. Rich brown wood floors and furniture created a pleasant, organic balance to the green, preventing the color from overwhelming the smaller space. I was rather fond of this room—Link had always "approved" of it.

Carlen was escorted to a chair at the far end of a larger table while I took the seat across him. Tarken sat to my right while the guards remained standing on either side of Carlen.

"Let us take a moment to review what we know," I began. "You say you found this man wandering near Castletown, approached him, and then arrested him on the charge of desertion, correct?"

"Precisely, your Majesty," Tarken nodded.

"Very well, that is your side of the story. Now we must hear Mr. Carlen's side." I turned my attention to the young soldier, who struggled to meet my unwavering gaze. "Mr. Carlen, you claim you were sent here to warn me of something."

"Y-Yes, your Majesty."

"You claim you were sent by the general himself."

"Yes… your Majesty."

"And why is it you have no official letter or signature to present?"

Carlen lowered his gaze and cleared his throat.

"He sent me straight off the battlefield…" he said quietly. "He—he feared it would be his only chance to send a message."

I tasted fear only a moment before doubt settled in. _Link would never send a Seventh Company soldier to me like this…would he?_

The situation would have to be quite desperate. But surely someone of more authority—someone more reliable—would have been available to him?

"Mr. Carlen, I don't understand why my husband would send you, a Seventh Company soldier, without anything but word of mouth."

His face paled, and I watched as his eyes grew distant.

"The battle…it…it was unlike anything I've ever imagined. I don't even think the general was prepared for it."

A vague sense of panic had emerged in the back of my mind, growing stronger with each passing moment.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"It's why I was sent to warn you, to tell you that…" he trailed off, afraid to go on.

"That…?"

Taking a deep breath, Carlen lifted his head and held my gaze for the first time since we'd sat down.

"In battle, we faced not only the Vandelian Army, but another army…" He paused to swallow. "An army of the dead."

_An army of the dead._

His words echoed loudly in my mind, chilling me to the bone. Even after years of practice, I could not mask the fear which flooded my face.

"Lies!" Tarken cried, rising to his feet. "That is impossible—no one can control an army of the dead!"

"It's true!" Carlen exclaimed, his voice shrill with fear. "I saw them with my own eyes!"

"And why should we believe you? Why would the general send a soldier as lowly as you to deliver such a crucial message to her Majesty?"

"I—I don't—"

"Enough, both of you."

Reluctantly Tarken sat down, still seething as Carlen lowered his gaze.

"This is indeed disturbing news," I said as calmly as I could manage. "And difficult to believe."

The young soldier moved to speak, but I raised a hand to silence him.

"Mr. Carlen, you claim the general sent you to inform me of this… predicament," I said carefully. "However, I find the manner in which the general supposedly sent you to be most peculiar—and uncharacteristic of him."

Confusion lined Carlen's face, but he kept silent,

"As you know," I continued, "the general is my husband, and thus I know his mind better than anyone. Let me assure you the general would never leave me in this state of uncertainty."

"Uncertainty…your Majesty?" Carlen nearly whispered.

"Yes. Because you left the battlefield in place of a courier without any solid evidence that you had been sent, I cannot be certain whether you speak the truth. My husband might have sent you, just as you claim, or…" My eyes met his, watching as he cowered beneath my intense gaze, "…you could truly be a deserter, foolishly trying to save yourself with lies."

His lips moved wordlessly, struggling for some response.

"However," I added, my voice softening, "It's impossible to predict what will happen in the midst of battle. So for now, soldier, I have little choice but to heed your words."

"But your Majesty!" Tarken burst out. "You mean to set him free? If he is a—"

"I will allow nothing of the sort, Tarken," I said sharply. "Mr. Carlen will remain in one of the guestrooms under constant supervision. He will not be released until I receive some evidence of his claim." I then turned to the pale, frightened face of the young soldier. "Do these arrangements seem fair to you, Mr. Carlen?"

He gave a weak nod, and I studied him a moment, wishing I could see the truth in his gaze.

"Mr. Carlen," I said slowly, "tell me exactly what the general said to you on the battlefield. What were his precise words?"

The young man hesitated, as though struggling to recall the memory.

"He said… Well, I-I don't remember his exact words…"

"His basic words, then," I urged.

"Well, he just said to… He ordered me to tell your Majesty of everything I had seen… as a warning."

"That is all?" I inquired, feeling my skepticism grow.

"Y-yes…" he mumbled, his eyes downcast. "It all just… happened so fast…"

"I understand." I sighed and sat back in my chair, disappointed by his response.

At that moment a knock sounded at the door, and I turned to see Impa and Ian enter the room.

"You summoned us, your Majesty?" Ian spoke. Impa silently took a seat at my side.

"I did. It would seem we have a potential deserter on our hands."

Ian's eyes widened, then narrowed. "A deserter, you say?" His blue gaze moved to Carlen, but the young soldier avoided eye contact.

"We cannot be certain. Mr. Adam Carlen here claims to be an emergency courier of sorts. Mr. Tarken can provide the details. I must speak with Impa in private."

"Very well, your Majesty." He nodded toward the guards, who then forced Carlen to his feet before escorting him from the room. Assuring me he would take care of the rest, Ian bowed and closed the door behind him.

"An emergency courier?" Impa inquired, her skepticism clear.

"I don't know," I sighed, wearily rubbing my forehead. "I suspect he's guilty, but I need more information. I'm keeping him under close supervision until I have it."

"Is that why you summoned me?"

"No," I murmured. "There is a much more unsettling matter to discuss."

She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms, listening as I repeated everything Carlen had said.

"An army of the dead…" she murmured. "That sounds very much like—"

"The Imprisoning War," I finished. "I know."

Any mention of this war—the war I had erased from history, the war only Link, myself, and the sages remembered—chilled my very spirit with a single name:

_Ganondorf._

Memories, long suppressed but still painfully vivid, invaded my thoughts. For a brief, consuming moment the room fell away and I found myself reliving a time long forgotten. A time of darkness, when I'd been forced to abandon my crown and assume the guise of a Sheikah—my only hope of survival. I had vanished from all knowledge, evading the watchful eyes of the Gerudo tyrant, King Ganondorf. I had faced each day knowing my kingdom's redemption hung by a thread—one slip and it would crumble. For seven long years I had lived in uncertainty, agonizing over the fear of failure…

"Zelda."

I jumped when Impa placed her hand over mine.

"Ganondorf had the Triforce's power at his disposal," she said gently. "If Ashton has gained even a fraction of that power, we would know it by now."

I lowered my gaze, hiding my fear.

"One would think so..."

"Throughout history, others have attempted to control the dead, but they were easily brought down by strength of arms," Impa reminded me. "This could be no different—if it's even true."

"But why would he lie about something like this?" I argued, rising to my feet and moving to the nearest window. "How could he make up such a thing? Impa, he must be telling the truth."

An uncomfortable silence fell before she spoke again.

"What I don't understand," she said, "is how Ashton could suddenly acquire such power. He's Vandelian—he can't possibly have the Gift."

"There are only two possible ways," I replied, turning from the window to meet her gaze. "He either acquired it through unnatural means, or some unknown ally assisted him."

"This outside help…he or she would obviously need some impressive skill in the dark arts."

I nodded gravely.

"Which leads me to suspect someone of Sheikan descent…"

"Impa, the Sheikah aren't the only ones capable of black magic."

"Yes, but it comes most naturally to them."

"But you are the last remaining Sheikah, and I'm quite certain you had nothing to do with this."

"I am the only _known_ remaining Sheikah."

"Impa, you don't actually think—"

"All I know is no ordinary Hylian could raise an army of the dead without suffering terrible consequences. Even you and Link would endure some unpleasant effects. And I can't believe that anyone—be them Hylian, Sheikah, or whomever—could practice forbidden magic without being discovered. Doesn't Link scour the land for that sort of thing from time to time?"

"He hasn't had much time for that in recent years," I murmured. "Either way, I'm sure there are dark places even Link doesn't know about."

"True."

Breathing a heavy sigh, I slowly returned to my seat.

"I don't know what to do, Impa. If Link did send me that warning, does he expect me to do something? How can I act when I know so little?"

She shook her head.

"That's just it, Zelda; you can't. You don't even know if Link sent this young man—"

"Impa, you know I despise waiting. I should be _doing _something to prepare my people, to warn them of this."

"Doing that would only create panic. And besides," her eyes met mine as she lowered her voice. "as long as the sun continues to set, no one can flee an army of the dead. You know this."

I swallowed and lowered my gaze.

"The source of the power must be struck down," I murmured. "The one controlling the dead must be eliminated."

"Yes."

_And that is primarily Link's job._ The words hung between us, silenced by uncertainty. I shifted in my chair, unable to stand it.

"I need answers, Impa," I told her. "I must speak with him."

"Using telepathy, you mean."

"Yes."

She sighed and leaned back in her chair

"It's likely he won't respond."

"I know." Solemnly I turned my face toward the window. "But I won't rest until I try."

**xxxxxxx**

After making certain I would not be disturbed, I hurriedly retired to my chambers. I didn't know what time would improve my chances of communication, but I intended to keep trying different hours of the day until Link and I made contact.

Quickly I locked the bedroom door and loosened the drapes. It was only late afternoon, and I preferred darkness to help me concentrate. I did light some candles, mostly to create a calmer atmosphere.

Next I approached my vanity and paused to remove my jewels. I'd always relished the feeling; it gave me a sense of relief. I told myself that, by removing the weight of my jewels, I removed the weight of my title. Then, if only for the night, I could simply be Zelda. Not a queen, not a sage, just me.

Once the jewels had been placed in their appropriate drawers, I lifted a hand to remove my circlet, watching myself do so in the mirror. Somberly my reflection gazed back, drawn with worry and fatigue.

I turned away and approached the bed, feeling a weight drop in my stomach. Emotionally I was torn, caught between urgency and dread. There was no knowing what awaited me, and I feared the worst.

I kicked off my slippers and settled against the tall wooden headboard. Then, drawing a slow, deep breath, I attempted to calm my body and clear my mind. Removing myself from the physical world had always been a difficult concept. It required letting go of everything around me, even my own body. Such a task required intense focus—this was the reason I sought solitude in my chambers, away from any disturbances.

Since discovering our abilities as children, Link and I had practiced telepathy for nearly fifteen years. Establishing a connection from close range required little concentration, but doing so from great distances remained a challenge. Considering the unknown distance between us—as well as my anxious state of mind—I knew telepathy would prove a more arduous task this time around.

It wasn't enough to simply think about Link. I needed to _feel_ him, to touch his mind with my own. In order to accomplish such an ambiguous task, I would first select a memory to focus my concentration.

Closing my eyes, I allowed my mind to revisit the first time Link and I experienced telepathy—at the eve of the Imprisoning War. It happened just before Link had gone to obtain the Master Sword, after Impa and I had fled the castle to escape Ganandorf's sudden attack. In an act of desperation, I had thrown Link the Ocarina of Time, the most sacred heirloom of the royal family. It had landed in the moat, where Link quickly dove in to retrieve it. Somehow, by the will of the gods, I had sensed the very moment he touched the instrument. As soon as his little fingers brushed its smooth, flawless surface, something between us had sparked to life. Even as Impa and I fled on horseback, even despite my overwhelming fear, I had closed my eyes and telepathically taught Link the Song of Time. I remembered how everything just fell away, leaving only the two of us. In that moment, I'd felt more connected to him than anyone in my entire life. I remembered how his emotions had swept through me; his anxiety, his exhaustion…

I opened my eyes and sighed, letting my focus unravel. That memory would only hinder my concentration—it sent my mind wandering in too many directions. Inhaling another deep breath, I closed my eyes and started again.

A smile tugged at my lips as I recalled the day we gave telepathy another try. It happened in my courtyard, several weeks after Ganondorf had been vanquished. I remembered feeling Link's excitement and wonder as clearly as my own. Telepathy stripped us of all physical barriers, leaving us emotionally exposed to each other. Our minds had become one, allowing us to communicate with a mere thought. But we'd been innocent children—a few more years passed before we fully recognized the intimacy of our extraordinary bond.

Immersed in the memory, I let it gradually fall away until all that remained was Link himself. From there, I allowed his physical properties to vanish as well…his voice, his face, his touch…until only his presence remained. This step—the final step—always left me feeling as though I were groping blindly in the darkness. I could see nothing, hear nothing... I was utterly dependent on what I _felt_. I reached out to him, moving toward his light at the end of the tunnel…

And then we connected.

Pain, raw and excruciating, seized me with a merciless, unyielding grip. A rush of emotions filled my mind—anger, fear, frustration. I gave a cry of anguish, feeling as though I had burst into flames. Every fiber of me longed to break the connection, but I held on. Mentally I called out to him, screaming his name above the chaos that attacked our minds. He did not answer. I kept calling, refusing to let go until he responded. I needed him to respond…

Then, finally, his mind brushed mine, accompanied by the familiar warmth of his presence. I heard his voice echo faintly, whispering my name. It sounded distant and strained, like a weary sigh.

"…_Zelda…_"

It lasted only a moment. The connection cut off so abruptly I was stunned to feel no pain. Refusing to accept I had lost him, I struggled to reestablish the connection.

_Link! Link, please!_

No answer. He was gone.

The room was oddly quiet, broken only by the sound of my shuddering, uneven breaths. Slowly I opened my eyes, gradually registering the soft bedding beneath me, the firm headboard behind me. My heart pounded as I realized what I'd just experienced, what it could mean.

…_Link_.

Finding no reason to linger, I leapt off the bed, stepped into my slippers, and ran for the door.

Something terrible had happened on the battlefield, and I needed to do something. I was through with waiting.


	8. Chapter VIII

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter VIII

_Go, go. Don't let anyone stop you._

I hurried down the hall, drawing a flock of servants as I went.

"Your Majesty?" they inquired. "Is there something we can do for you?"

"Yes." My eyes stared ahead as I moved. "Inform the stable workers to ready my horse. I'm leaving within the hour."

This alarmed them, as they proceeded to interrogate me.

"Your Majesty!"

"_Leaving_?"

"But whatever for?"

"I have no time for questions; please do as I say."

The crowd thinned as a few attendants left for the stables. I pressed on, striding through the corridors until I reached the castle's western wing, which housed the guest chambers. Two guards stood before the first chamber—Carlen's chamber, I assumed. Immediately they straightened, bowing as I approached.

"Is this room assigned to Adam Carlen?" I asked them.

"Yes, your Majesty," the right guard answered. "Is something the matter?"

"Open the door; I must speak with him now."

They obeyed without question, and I stepped inside to find the young soldier seated on the sofa with his head in his hands. He looked up as I entered and immediately shot to his feet.

"Y-your Majesty!"

"Mr. Carlen," I addressed him, masking my anxiousness, "do you know the location of the military campsite?"

He blinked in surprise.

"Th-the campsite?"

"Yes, do you remember where it is?"

He hesitated, wrinkling his brow.

"…Yes, I think so."

"I need a definite answer, Carlen."

He gave an affirmative nod.

"I remember where it is."

Inwardly I sighed with relief.

"Can you lead me there?"

His eyes widened. "Lead you there?" he croaked. "Me?"

"There's no time for explanations, Carlen. Answer the question."

"I…I could, your Majesty."

"Good. We'll leave within the hour. Guards," I turned to address them. "See that Mr. Carlen is prepared for the journey."

"We're leaving?" Carlen stammered. "Today?"

"Correct." I turned to meet his troubled gaze. "There is something I must personally investigate. I suggest you cooperate."

"But I…" His face reddened as he sought a more appropriate response. "Please…can I see Heather before I go?"

I considered him, feeling a twinge of empathy.

"I will send her to assist you."

A relieved smile lit his face, one so genuine I nearly returned it.

"Thank you, your Majesty."

I nodded and promptly left the room. Once the guards had been informed of Carlen's new situation, I left the western wing and headed back toward my own chambers. Fear stirred within me as I walked, but I buried it as best I could. I needed to be focused.

_I'm coming, Link. Wait for me._

.

After the traveling arrangements had been made, I returned to my chambers to prepare for the journey ahead. I had dismissed my maids, preferring to pack my things alone. I needed some time to calm myself and clear my head. What I'd felt through the connection had left me on the brink of panic—my head throbbed, my body trembled… Nothing would comfort me, not until I knew Link was safe.

A loud knock broke through my thoughts, and, assuming my maids had returned, I released an impatient sigh.

"I require no assistance, thank you."

The door opened, and I turned to see the imposing figure of my Council Dignitary.

"Oh, Impa." I resumed my packing as she entered the bedroom. "I'm sorry; I thought you were another maid."

"You're leaving?"

"I must." My tone was stern, warning her not to argue. "I must go to him."

"You made contact then?"

"Yes, but only for a moment; he—" I paused to meet her gaze, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Impa, he was in such pain."

Fear lined her normally guarded features.

"What's happened to him?"

I shook my head and shoved some clothes into my pack.

"I don't know. There wasn't time."

"Zelda," her tone was unusually hesitant, "is it possible he's…"

"No," I said sharply. "No, our communication broke off, but I can still feel him. He is alive, possibly still with the army. His absence would certainly warrant a message of some sort, but I need to know what's going on out there."

"You have couriers who can do that—"

"I can't stay here another minute." Hurriedly I moved to the vanity to braid my hair back. "No one will stop me, not even you, Impa."

Her reflection sighed before she came to assist me.

"I know," she murmured, finishing my braid for me. "But how will you find them?"

"Adam Carlen will lead me to the army camp. He remembers their location."

"I assume you want me to remain here?"

I crossed the room to open a storage chest, pulling out a pair of worn boots and a traveling cloak.

"I won't force you to stay, but I'd feel better if you did." Shoving my feet into the boots, I dropped onto one knee to lace them. "That way I know everything will be in order when I return."

"And if he's not there?" Her voice was quiet, even fearful.

Ignoring the way my stomach fluttered, I shot her a determined look.

"Then I'll keep searching until I find him."

I rose to my feet, throwing on my cloak and grabbing my pack before heading for the door.

"Zelda."

I paused in the doorway, not bothering to face her.

"I know this is difficult," she said gently. "But you cannot simply wander Hyrule and Vandelius during a time of war, not even for him. You have your duties to consider."

I stood there a moment, considering her words before striding out the door. My reply remained stuck in my throat, knotted with frustration and fear.

**xxxxxxx**

"Please, your Majesty, it's too dangerous!"

"Can you not send another in your stead?"

Suppressing a frustrated sigh, I hurried toward the castle entrance as my advisors clustered around me.

"Arguing is pointless," I told them. "I will not be dissuaded."

"At least take more guards with you!"

"Two will suffice. A larger party would slow our progress."

"This is reckless, your Majesty," Vasilis spoke. "I insist you reconsider."

"I will not."

"At least consult with your Council before riding off so abruptly?" he pressed.

"There is nothing to discuss. My mind is set."

"Please, your Majesty," Renae piped up, "at least inform us of your intentions?"

I slowed to a stop, cursing my obligations to the Council. I couldn't bear to waste time in a meeting, and how could I possibly explain myself? They knew nothing of my telepathic bond with Link, and I had no intention of exposing it. Once again I found myself caught between a queen's duties and my personal desires.

Slowly I turned to face them, struggling for some quick excuse, when a familiar voice spoke out in my stead.

"The queen has no time for explanations, Lady Renae."

The ministers turned to see Impa descend the nearby stairway.

"Her Majesty has given me authority in her absence. Question me all you like; Queen Zelda has more important matters to address."

I gave her a small smile, expressing my thanks before the advisors turned back to me.

"Mistress Impa speaks the truth," I told them. "I have informed her of the situation, so you may direst all inquiries to her."

Casting Impa one last meaningful look, I turned and continued on, crossing the throne room to exit the large double doors.

It was not yet dark, and the clouds had finally begun to clear. The air was wonderfully fresh, as it always is after a good rain. I breathed it in, grateful to be outside the confining castle walls.

Carlen and the two guards had already mounted and waited near the gate. Once I had joined them atop my own mare, I gave the young soldier his cue to lead. Awkwardly he urged his horse forward, heading toward the North Gate. The South Gate would have been quicker, but it would also require passing through Castletown—something I wished to avoid. We left the castle grounds without trouble and rode due south at top speed.

.

Darkness fell within mere hours, and eventually the guards insisted we stop for the night. Silently—as the four of us exchanged little conversation—we pitched our tents and built a fire for our meal. Carlen and I remained near the fire while the two guards kept watch on opposite sides of the camp.

The silence was uncomfortable. Aside from the awkward gap between our social classes, Carlen's possible guilt created additional tension. He remained in my company only to finish his meal before retreating to his tent, and the only word he spoke was a courteous goodnight. Again and again I considered questioning him about Ashton's alleged army of the dead, but I, like him, couldn't bring myself to talk.

It wasn't until our third night of travel that I attempted some friendly conversation. Tired of the usual silence, I asked Carlen about his life in the barracks. I quickly realized I'd chosen the wrong topic, however, as it was clear Carlen disliked the soldier's life. My first instinct was to inquire about this, to demand his reason for joining the military if he was so reluctant. But I wished to maintain some peace between us, so I abandoned the urge. Carlen's questionable performance would be dealt with soon enough.

The boy struggled to sound positive, that much I could tell, but he lacked the energy. In addition, our conversation was beginning to resemble an interrogation, and the soldier was clearly uncomfortable. So I decided to ask about his background instead.

Carlen was the only son in his family—just a few years younger than his sister. His father was a merchant, and Carlen had been his apprentice until he joined the military. He was apparently close to his family, and talking about them had loosened his tongue a bit. I was glad to hear him use my title less often.

"Adam—may I call you Adam?" I asked once he'd finished speaking.

"Of course, your Majesty," His face reddened in the firelight. "Call me whatever you like."

"Thank you," I smiled gently. "You don't have to use my title so often, you know. I won't take offense."

His blush darkened.

"I'm sorry, your Majesty—I mean—" he broke off with a sigh. "It feels strange not to."

Again I smiled, forcing my lips upward despite my disappointment.

"No, forgive me," I murmured, lowering my gaze. "I was hoping to ease the tension. It seems I've done the opposite."

Silence fell as we gazed into the fire. Its flames provided adequate warmth, but inside I felt the chill of loneliness. _Am I this incapable of speaking to people of humbler status?_

Link used to tease me about it, smiling in that way whenever I used formal language in casual situations. His amusement had lessened over the years—particularly because he, too, had learned to speak like a respectable nobleman. Still, it was easier for him to slip back into casual conversation, and my inability to do so amused him to this day. Only Link viewed my habits with such affection; everyone else shied away, thinking me cold.

"Why are you being so kind to me?"

I looked up, forgetting to mask my surprise. Adam studied me with a peculiar expression—something between gratitude and confusion.

"Should I not?"

He furrowed his brow.

"You don't think I'm guilty?"

"The law states you are innocent until proven otherwise," I said quietly. "As of now, I have no reason to treat you like a criminal."

He nodded and lowered his gaze. The silence dragged on.

"It's easier to talk to you when you're dressed more normal like that."

Again I looked up, eyebrows raised.

"I—I'm so sorry!" he burst out. "I—I just meant that, when you wear those ordinary clothes, you don't seem as scary—intimidating! I meant intimidating!" He then clapped a hand over his mouth, looking at me with wide eyes.

I gave a small laugh and shook my head.

"It's all right, Adam, really," I assured him. "I know what you mean. If I had my way, I'd wear clothes like these all the time."

The soldier slowly lowered his hand as curiosity lined his features.

"You would?"

"Of course. Ordinary clothes are more comfortable than my usual gowns, and I tire of wearing jewels all the time."

He stared at me, eyes bright with wonder. I ignored his lack of courtesy with a smile.

"So tell me more about Heather," I said. "How did you two meet?"

His whole demeanor brightened at the mention of her name.

"We met as children," he said softly. "When she was little, she was in charge of looking after her family's cuccos, though she was never very good at it. They would always escape into the market, and she would chase after them yelling, 'Catch that cucco!' to anyone who'd listen." The soldier smiled at the memory. "No one really paid any attention to her, and she was always getting in everyone's way…

"Then one day I saw a cucco coming right at me, so I bent down to pick it up." He demonstrated with a swift hand motion. "And she came running up to me… She was all out of breath and her hair was a mess, but she looked so happy. She even called me her hero." A blush crept back into his face.

"How sweet," I smiled. "And you two became friends after that?"

"Fast friends, and eventually more than that..." He dropped his gaze, his young features darkening with worry. "We're engaged now, but we're waiting another year before we get married... Her father insisted we wait."

I heard the bitterness in his tone, quiet as it was.

"Does Heather's father not approve of your engagement?"

Adam sighed.

"He wanted her to marry a rich man," he replied glumly. "My family... We do all right, but we're not wealthy—not like Heather's family. I'm just…" He hesitated, reluctant to finish his sentence. "She could have done better than me."

I studied him a moment, feeling my heart go out to him.

"Is Heather happy with you?" I asked him gently.

"I think so. She tells me so."

"Then that's all that matters. Love is a far greater treasure than wealth."

"Heather thinks so too," he murmured. "She wouldn't let me go, no matter what her father said. She even moved out of her home to work in the castle, just for me." Adam sighed and shook his head. "I didn't want to ruin her relationship with her parents, so I did something that would make them think better of me. I decided to join the army."

"That is no reason to join the military, Adam," I said with a frown. "Did you even realize the weight of that responsibility?"

He bowed his head.

"I…I thought I did…" Then suddenly he leaned forward, and I was surprised to see tears in his eyes. "I tried to do the right thing; I really did...I'm just a merchant's son—I don't know how to be a soldier!"

Then he buried his face in his hands, trying to regain his composure. I watched him in silence, unsure of what to say. His words only strengthened my suspicion, but his misery saddened me.

"Adam," I finally said, "it's quite late. You should get a decent rest before dawn."

Pulling himself together, he nodded and rose to his feet. "Yes, your Majesty." Then he returned to his tent, avoiding my guarded gaze.

I remained by the fire a while longer, reflecting on our conversation. Despite everything I still felt compassion for the young soldier—perhaps because he'd endured social discrimination for the sake of love. He was a coward and a fool, but a good person nonetheless. He did not deserve the consequences of desertion.

"It's awfully late, your Majesty."

I looked up as one of the guards, Ben, approached the fire, concern lining his rugged face.

"Perhaps you should retire soon," he suggested, kneeling to rekindle the fire.

I did so, more for his sake than mine. I knew my presence made the others nervous. Courteously we bid each other goodnight before I vanished inside my tent. There I curled up on my bedroll, tightly wrapping myself in my blanket. I watched the tent flap twitch in the night breeze, vaguely aware of the guards' murmured conversation outside. The silence was peaceful; my thoughts were not. They seemed unnaturally loud in my head, and only sleep could chase them away. I felt it would come soon.

I turned onto my back with a sigh, staring up at the canvas ceiling until my eyelids grew heavy. Willingly I let my fatigue carry me into the realm of dreams...

.

_He lay on an altar, stripped to his waist, chained by his wrists and ankles. He thrashed wildly against them, clenching his teeth as he gasped for breath._

"_Pledge yourself to me." A deep, sinister voice spoke._

"_No." He choked out the word, struggling to speak through his pain._

"_Pledge yourself to me, and I will help you."_

"_Liar." A whisper this time._

_His screams filled my ears, shrill and anguished… The sound ripped into me, destroying me…_

.

"Your Majesty?"

I sat up with a gasp, breathing Link's name as my eyes flew open. But there was nothing, only the dark canvas of my tent.

"Your Majesty?"

Dazedly I turned to see Ben the guard peeking into my tent.

"Are you all right?" he asked me.

I closed my eyes and turned away, hastily drying my tears.

"Yes," I mumbled. "I—I'm fine."

He waited a moment, unsure of what to do.

"It is dawn?" I asked, failing to keep the tremor from my voice.

"Aye, your Majesty. We're ready to depart when you are."

"Thank you, I… I'll just be a minute."

"Of course, your Majesty."

He ducked out of the tent, leaving me to my thoughts. Slowly I slid my knees up against my chest, folding my arms around them. The dream replayed over and over, haunting my mind's eye.

_Not a dream,_ I reminded myself. _A vision._

A wave of helplessness swept through me, sending fresh tears down my face.

_No, _my logical side quickly argued. _It was a premonition; it hasn't happened yet… There's still time to save him._

_There's still time._

I closed my eyes and released a slow, trembling breath. It wasn't over yet. For all I knew, the pain I'd felt through the connection could have been a wound he'd suffered in battle. He could still be at the camp, poring over maps and reports in his tent, oblivious to the danger that awaited him. If such was the case, I would not turn back without him.

No matter what.

**xxxxxxx**

We reached the camp by midday, when the sun had risen to its highest. Relieved the army had not yet left that specific location, I urged Clover ahead of my party, covering the remaining distance as quickly as possible.

A number of soldiers had appeared to greet us, forgetting to hide their astonishment once they recognized me. More and more gathered until two lieutenants forced their way through the crowd.

"Your Majesty," the taller captain I recognized as Lieutenant Aiden bowed. "You honor us with your presence, though I must emphasize the danger—"

"I understand, Lieutenant; but it could not be helped." Quickly I dismounted, letting a soldier lead Clover away to be cared for. "I must speak with the general. Immediately."

Aiden hesitated, turning to exchange an uneasy look with his fellow lieutenant, Theodus.

"What is it?" I demanded, not bothering to hide my anxiety. "Has something happened to him?"

Aiden bowed his head while Theodus cleared his throat.

"If you would follow us, your Majesty," he said quietly.

I followed them deeper into the campsite, barely registering the countless soldiers we passed. My heart pounded in my throat, my stomach churned… I already knew the reason for their strange demeanor. _He isn't here._

Eventually we approached a larger, more elaborate tent, which I assumed housed Captain Clepharas. I didn't dare hope for Link.

"The captain will explain everything," Aiden said softly. His sympathetic gaze only worsened the sick feeling inside. Unable to speak, I nodded and stepped inside the flap Theodus had pulled aside for me.

The tent's interior was spacious enough for a decent-sized table, stools, and a bedroll. Maps and other various papers covered the table's surface, illuminated by candles.

"Your Majesty," the captain greeted me, his deep voice straining as he rose from his seat. I caught a glimpse of bandages beneath his shirt before meeting his harsh brown eyes.

"There's no need to stand," I told him. "Be as you were."

He gave a grateful nod and lowered himself back down—gingerly.

When it came to his appearance, Clef was no average Hylian. In fact, Link used to joke that if a Goron ever transformed into a Hylian he would look just like Clef, which was probably true. At thirty-two years, the captain was a large man, burly and muscular. A short beard graced his jaw while a mass of thick, dark curls covered his head—curls he didn't bother to tame. He was taller than any man in the military, including the general himself. Contrary to his looks, however, Clef was a good-natured, cheerful individual who loved to laugh more than anything.

Pulling up a stool, I sat across the table from Clef, watching him take a slow, deep breath to speak. In all the years I'd known him, I could only remember one time I'd ever seen him look the way he did—the day he'd saved Link from certain death on the battlefield. I remembered those bloodshot eyes, that same tired, sorrowful face…

"I'm relieved to see you've reached us safely, your Majesty," he said, "though I can't figure what drove you to leave the castle. I sent a courier out just yesterday."

"I left three days ago; we must have missed each other." I looked at him then, willing him to see my impatience, my fear. "I'm sure you know the reason I'm here."

He nodded and lowered his gaze, afraid to speak.

"Where is he, Clef?" Slowly I leaned closer, wordlessly begging him to speak. "Where is my husband?"

"He… He's been captured," he whispered, lifting his gaze to mine. "I'm so sorry, Zelda."

I bowed my head, pulling away as the tears built up in my throat. I felt as though I'd be sick.

"…How?" I croaked.

"It's…difficult to explain," he murmured. "I barely understand it myself."

I swallowed and lifted my head, fixing him with a determined gaze.

"Tell me everything."


	9. Chapter IX

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**Fortitude**

Chapter IX

"It happened shortly after we'd set up camp," Clef began. "The sun hadn't quite set, and most of the soldiers were still swappin' small talk around their campfires. I was with Link, looking over some reports before we retired for some rest." His thick brow furrowed as he spoke. "I remember he seemed kind of…distracted, like something was on his mind."

I lowered my eyes, avoiding his inquisitive glance.

"I asked him about it, he brushed me off, and the next thing I know one of the scouts comes rushing into the tent with this mad look on his face. Turns out the Vandelian Army had been sighted an hour's march from our camp.

"Of course we prepared and left as quickly as possible. We managed to ride a good distance from the camp before the Vandelians appeared on the horizon. It was gettin' awfully dark by then—could hardly see 'em way out there. We were the first to charge, and the battle began like any other, but then…" Clef sighed and shook his head.

"What?" I pressed. "What is it?" I already knew the reason for his hesitation, but my need for details left me anxious.

"We'd only been fighting a short while when a voice suddenly rang out over the battlefield. I took a quick look around and realized the voice came from Ashton himself. He had raised some sort of staff high above him, and he was chanting somethin' in a strange language. The staff started to glow… but it was more like darkness than light..." The captain furrowed his brow, searching for the right words. "I'd describe it as a sort of dark, unnatural energy… I'm sorry if I'm not makin' any sense, Zelda."

"No, I think I understand," I assured him. "Please continue."

"Well, after he'd finished chanting, everything seemed to just…stop. And that's when _they_ came."

"They?" I whispered.

His eyes gazed past me, unfocused as he recalled the memory.

"There was this…awful sound," he murmured. "Like hundreds of voices groaning… It was soft at first, but then it grew louder. I remember glancing at Link, but he wasn't looking at me. He wasn't looking at anything; he was just…listening. That was one of the rare times I've seen fear in that man's face, but there was something else too. He looked like he knew what was happening, like he _recognized _it."

Clef's eyes refocused then, gazing into mine.

"Then the ground began to shake and…_hands_ began shooting up out of the ground. I know this sounds crazy, your Majesty, but corpses started climbin' up out of the earth, right before my eyes. You can ask any of the soldiers out there if you don't believe me—"

"That won't be necessary," I said quietly. "I believe you, Clef."

"They were the most grotesque creatures I've ever seen," he muttered. "Nothin' but skeletons, fully armed and vicious. And there was another kind…they moved real slow-like, but gods, one glance at their faces…at those eyes…I swear I'd gone cold as ice. I couldn't move, couldn't speak…"

"ReDeads," I whispered.

"Pardon?"

"ReDeads," I repeated, lifting my gaze. "The slower creatures are called ReDeads, and the skeletal ones are Stalfos."

Surprise lined Clef's rugged face, followed by a slow nod.

"…Right," he said. "I think I've heard of 'em before. Guess I never believed it until now." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "The horses were actin' crazy, being spooked an' all, and many soldiers had already been thrown to the ground. Most weren't able to get back on their feet, and those who did were too shaken to fight properly. So many of them were just screaming and panicking… It was absolute chaos."

I swallowed, struggling to control my growing fear. _It's so similar…so similar to the Imprisoning War…_

"But Link, he was somethin' else," Clef said, his voice soft with admiration. "He and I managed to stay mounted, and Link tried his hardest to regain control of the situation. He shouted commands until he was hoarse, instructing the soldiers how to bring those monsters down. He was fighting the whole time too, and gods, I swear he could have taken out half that army himself.

"Eventually I understood Link was trying to make his way toward Ashton, and I covered him as best I could. He's always been good at thinkin' on his feet, and I figured taking out Ashton was probably the smartest thing—maybe the _only_ thing—we could do. Give the Vandelians some chaos of their own."

Clef paused, pursing his lips as he considered his next words.

"Then Link decided to dismount—I had no idea what he was thinking at that point. Countless enemies flew at him, but he left them in pieces. He cut himself a clear path, never once losing his focus." He looked at me then, his dark eyes glinting in the candlelight. "…It was like he was immune to them."

_No_, I thought sadly. _Not immune. Desensitized._

"Did he reach Ashton, then?" Anxiousness gnawed at my insides.

Clef nodded. "He shouted something to him—a challenge, I gathered, since Ashton also dismounted, still holding the staff. The enemy formed a ring around them, holdin' us back when we tried to interfere. I don't know all the details; I was…distracted by the Vandelians."

My heart sank but I clung to his every word.

"Then suddenly the dead started cryin' out, like they were in pain. Most were on their knees, clutching their heads…and then they all started burrowing back into the ground… I turned just in time to see Link collapse. I…I don't know if he was...I—I mean he could have been unconscious, but I…" Clef's voice shook as he struggled to keep his composure.

"He's alive, Clef," I said softly.

He looked up, hope lighting his grieved features.

"How do you know?" he whispered.

"I just do. I…I can feel it. I don't know how to explain it."

He studied me a moment, but I could see he believed me. He needed to believe me. Breathing a heavy sigh, he gave a small, bitter smile.

"You don't know how much I needed to hear those words," he whispered.

"What happened after Link fell?" I inquired gently.

Clef shook his head. "I assume he had destroyed the staff, because I saw its pieces lying nearby. For a moment everything got real quiet…all you could hear was the wind. And then, laughter…" The captain's face darkened with anger. "Ashton was laughing like a maniac, but then he started ordering his soldiers to take Link. I snapped out of it and shouted my own orders, but too many were still in shock to fight. The next thing I knew…Link was out of our reach."

He bowed his head. "And then they retreated. They just up and left us there, like we were some kind of joke. Ashton shouted something about them havin' what they came for, and they just… rode away. We haven't seen the last of them, though; that much I know."

_They had what they came for. _Something clicked as the words echoed through my mind.

"It was all a set-up!" I cried. "He played us right into his hands, from the very beginning!"

"What?" Clef breathed. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you see? Those Vandelian villages—it was all arranged!" I broke off then, lost in my panicked realization. _But why capture Link? Why retreat? Does he mean to barter Link's life for my hand?_

"I'm so sorry, Zelda," Clef whispered. "I failed to protect him… I've failed Link, and I've failed you."

"You did all you could, Clef." The words sounded hollow, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"We have every intention of pursuing the Vandelians," he assured me. "We know Link's alive, and we won't rest until we get him back. This war has only begun, your Majesty."

I lifted my eyes to his, irritation creeping up my spine.

"Then why do you linger?" Tears stung my eyes as I remembered the intense pain I'd experienced when I'd last contacted Link. "Why do you just… _sit here _while they torment him?"

Clef hesitated, his expression grave.

"I am sorry, Zelda; I truly am. But we are in no condition to pursue him. Too many soldiers are wounded or incapacitated—countless men are trapped in some kind of cursed sleep, unable to wake. We need to recuperate, for as long as we can afford." He hesitated, lowering his gaze. "I myself have been sick with fever."

My expression softened at this information, but inside my heart sank. _Cursed sleep…_

"We've sent scouts to track the Vandelians. We're watching their every move, and they've not yet brought him to Vandelle City—"

"You must take _action_, Captain," I cut him off. "Link destroyed the one advantage they had; they will not wait for the soldiers to mend."

"I am painfully aware of that, your Majesty," he spoke with strained patience. "But charging into battle as we are would be suicide."

I fell silent, struggling to distance myself from the brink of panic. Link was beyond my reach, and the military was too crippled to fight back. If I had any hope of saving Link, I needed to save our soldiers.

"The ones who sleep," I said softly, "I can help them."

Clef's face brightened, if only slightly. "You can?"

"I can use my Gift to reach them. I can help them wake…if they are strong enough."

"Oh, they are, Zelda; I know they are."

I nodded. "Take me to them."

**xxxxxxx**

Clef led me to the medical tents himself, despite the pain of his wounds. Again I found myself walking a maze of tents and campfires, and this time I paid closer attention. Everywhere soldiers shuffled about, preparing food, sharpening weapons, talking quietly… Many simply sat off to the side, lost in their thoughts. Healers and attendants slipped in and out of sight, their grim faces set with concentration.

I could feel the soldiers' eyes on me, recognizing me. They knew why I had come. My heart stirred at the sight of them, so pitiful to behold. These men had suffered a terrifying defeat, and they had lost their leader in the process. Their faces were ashen, their movements slow… This was the image of a broken army. I tried my best to appear strong for them, but the air was thick with smoke from the fires, and constantly I had to blink back tears—at least I told myself it was the smoke.

Finally we reached the medical tents, in which lay the wounded, the ill, and, in this rare case, the cursed. Attendants bustled about, some pausing to bow or curtsy when they recognized me.

"These tents," Clef said, slowing us to a halt and gesturing to a separated cluster, "contain those who won't wake."

"Do they have other symptoms?" I inquired softly.

"No. They sleep like the dead, which I reckon they will be if they don't wake soon."

"I see." Quietly I ducked into the nearest tent, struggling to bury my anxiety. Concentration would be a challenge; that much I knew. But I would try my best—these men depended on me.

Four soldiers lay on the ground, one considerably younger than the other three middle-aged men. Kneeling beside the eldest of the four—a slender man with salt-and-peppered hair—I felt for a pulse while Clef settled beside me. The others remained outside.

The soldier's skin was unusually cold, but I found a weak pulse, so I reached for his right eyelid, gently pushing it back to expose his eye.

"This one is nearly taken," I murmured, noting his dilated pupil. His iris was so thin I could barely see it. "Their eyes turn black when they're lost—whites and all."

A shadow passed over Clef's already grave features. "Then many are already lost," he whispered. "But he can still wake?"

"He's descending into the Black Sleep," I replied. "It's a form of possession, inflicted when a mortal stares too deeply into the eyes of a ReDead. The Black Sleep cloaks the mind in shadow and paralyzes the body, trapping a person in a nightmarish sleep until they die."

The blood drained from Clef's face before he shook his head.

"That such creatures could walk this land," he muttered. "That such curses exist..."

"I can use my telepathy to break through his Sleep," I said, pressing my fingers to the solder's temples. "The rest depends on his strength."

Pausing for a deep breath, I then closed my eyes and summoned my mental barriers. Entering the mind of one inflicted with the Black Sleep was potentially dangerous, but I could fortify my defenses with power I drew from the Triforce of Wisdom. I would not be harmed.

Clearing my head took longer than usual, but finally, when my thoughts had quieted, I opened my mind and carefully reached into his.

Immediately the darkness attacked, slamming against my defenses, fighting to infest me. My barriers kept it at bay, and hurriedly I felt about, searching for some warmth within the icy nothingness.

_There._

The soldier's presence flickered deep within the shadows, like a dying candle fighting to stay lit. I admired his strength, but I knew he was losing. Despair gnawed at his spirit, weakening his resilience. There was little time.

Quickly I reached out, extending my power toward him. _Don't be afraid_, I spoke, my voice echoing through his mind. _I can free you._

For a second, wonder eclipsed his despair, and tentatively his spirit drew closer, reaching…

But the curse swooped in with renewed aggression, forcing him further down into its clutches. I plunged after him; wincing as my barriers strained beneath the onslaught of attacks.

_Fight it!_ I called to him. _Don't give in now!_

He lunged for me again, exhausting the last of his strength. Using my power, I managed to grab hold of him, biting back a scream as I pulled him from the shadow's grasp. The weight of the curse was nearly unbearable. Then I retreated, rising higher and higher while the darkness gave chase…

I opened my eyes with a gasp, falling back until a strong pair of hands caught my shoulders.

"Zelda?" I could barely hear Clef over the ringing in my ears. "Are you all right?"

"The soldier…" I stammered.

"He's awake," Clef assured me, giving my shoulders a gentle squeeze. "You did it, Zelda."

I cradled my head, waiting for my dizziness to clear before moving to observe the soldier. He muttered nonsense, his eyes darting between me and the healer who had knelt by his side.

"He's disoriented," I murmured, laying a hand on his cold forehead. "But he'll be fine after some decent food and rest. The curse is broken once a Sleeper wakes."

"Thank the gods," Clef said.

But I had already moved on to the next soldier—the younger man with fiery red hair. My hand moved to push back his eyelid—

His eyes were black. Whites and all.

"This one is lost," I murmured, feeling his weak pulse. "He won't survive much longer."

"What will happen to him?" Clef asked, his face guarded.

"His spirit has already left his body. He will inevitably die in his sleep."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I placed my hand on the soldier's forehead, mouthed a silent prayer of peace, and moved on to the next Sleeper. He, too, was lost. As was the forth.

And so, with a heavy heart, I left the healers to their duties and moved on to the second tent. Five more soldiers slept inside. I managed to save two of them.

Tirelessly I worked, entering the minds of those who still resisted the Black Sleep. Every attempt strained my resolve, weakening my mental barriers and taking a physical toll upon my weary body. I pushed myself nonetheless, refusing to stop until it was too dangerous to continue. Several tents still remained, but seeing my shaken, exhausted condition, Clef insisted I retire for the evening. I did so without argument, planning to rest up and visit the other tents in the morning.

My efforts took a harder toll than I had foreseen. I had neglected to consider my distress, and I had suffered the consequences. I was so weak I could barely walk to my assigned tent. A guard assisted me as we followed Clef, awkwardly supporting me while I kept an arm around his shoulders. My body shook with an unnatural chill—I had to clench my teeth to keep them from chattering. Worst of all was the deep emptiness. I felt as though I would never be happy again.

"Here we are," Clef said, stopping before a larger, more elaborate tent. "This was the general's tent. I… I hope you'll find it suitable, your Majesty."

I nodded, failing to find my voice as the soldier helped me inside. We shuffled over to the bedroll, and I sank down onto it, sitting with my knees drawn up against my chest. Clef draped a heavy blanket over my shoulders, and I whispered my thanks through chattering teeth.

"Zelda," Clef said once the soldier had left. "You're in an awful state; are you sure you'll be all right?"

I nodded, wrapping the blanket tighter around me. "I o-overestimated my m-mental condition," I confessed. "The curse t-took a harder toll than I was p-prepared for. I'll be fine after warm f-food and rest."

"I've ordered hot soup for us."

"That w-will help, th-thank you."

Carefully Clef settled himself down across from me, and just moments later an attendant appeared with our meals—beef stew with bread and cheese. I ate hungrily, ravished by my efforts to wake the Sleepers. The warm food helped ward off my inner chill, and my teeth finally stopped chattering.

Clef allowed me a few bites before speaking.

"Zelda," I looked up to see his dark brows drawn with concern. "Is there no one who can assist you with the Sleepers? So you don't have to…do this to yourself?"

I shook my head, feeling a fresh wave of sadness.

"Link and Impa are the only others I know of with the ability to wake a Sleeper," I murmured. "But there's no point in calling Impa here. I can visit the others in the morning, and I'll be better prepared then. My weariness is a small price to pay for their sake."

Clef sighed and nodded, idly stirring his soup. "Speaking of Link," he said, "there's something you should have."

I watched as he struggled to his feet and moved to a small nearby table. A white cloth lay there, concealing a flat item wrapped inside. Carefully he lifted it with both hands and brought it to me. I knew what it was the moment I felt its weight, and with trembling hands I pulled away the cloth.

"_Valéshar_," I whispered.

The magnificent sword gleamed in the candlelight, freshly polished and bearing no sign of recent use. I gazed down at it sadly, tracing a finger along its leather-bound hilt.

"We recovered it after the Vandelians left," Clef said softly. "The sheath is still with Link."

I knew the sheath had most likely been destroyed or kept as a trophy of sorts, but I didn't want to think about it.

"Thank you, Clef," I said quietly. "I'll keep it safe for him…until we can return it."

His eyes met mine, and I knew he thought the same thing. _If we can return it._

I lowered my gaze, blinking back tears as I set the sword aside. Clef settled back down and the two of us ate our stew in silence.

"I want to apologize for my behavior earlier," I blurted out. "I gave in to my emotions, and I said some inconsiderate things. I know you're doing everything you can."

Clef shook his head dismissively.

"Don't worry about it. Anyone in your place would have done the same. If it were my Siena out there, I…well, I don't know what I'd do."

We slipped back into a more comfortable silence, content to finish our meals. When our bowls had been scraped clean, Clef kindly gathered my dishes and moved to leave.

"I should let you rest now," he said gently. "You've had a very long day."

I nodded, fingering the hilt of Link's sword.

"Have someone wake me at dawn," I told him. "I want to help those remaining soldiers as soon as possible."

"If you insist." He hesitated then, shifting his weight as he considered something. "Zelda…if there's anything you need, anything at all…"

I shook my head, forcing a weak smile to my lips.

"I'll be all right."

"Just know that I'm here for you."

"I know. Thank you, Clef."

He nodded, but I saw his discomfort. He still felt responsible for Link's capture, and that guilt would not leave him until Link was safe again.

"Well, then…Good night, Zelda. Sleep well."

"You too, Clef."

He forced a smile of his own before slipping back outside.

I breathed a heavy sigh and let my eyes gravitate back to the sword. Again I reached for it, carefully laying it across my lap.

The weapon featured an impressive design—intricate yet crafted to avoid hindering the wielder. Plated in gold, the hilt featured small leaf-like carvings along the cross-guard. A bright emerald lay encrusted in the pommel, and the grip had been wrapped in fine leather.

I gazed down into the polished blade, noting my exhausted reflection before focusing on the words engraved into the metal. The letters were Ancient Hylian and simply read "Sir Link of Hyrule." More important was the small Triforce engraved near the hilt, a symbol used only by members of the royal family.

Though Link's current sword lacked the divine perfection of his true sword—the Master Sword—it was something he held close to his heart. It had been a gift from my father, presented to Link the day he was officially promoted to general—and named my consort. My father had called the sword _Valéshar_, which meant "Shard of Valor" in Ancient Hylian or, more commonly, "Blade of Valor." It was, my father had told him, a sword forged for a man as brave and honorable as Link. Ordinarily, a general would not receive a sword bearing the symbol of the royal family, but Link and I had already been engaged by that point—in secret.

Receiving a custom-made sword from the king was an honor indeed, but my father had meant it to be more than that. He had always treated Link with the utmost respect, recognizing the great man he was, even despite his unknown origins. To Link, Valéshar wasn't simply a weapon, but a reminder of my father's kindness to him.

It felt strange to hold it now, to touch it…which made little sense, considering the sword almost never left Link's side. Perhaps that explained why I found it strange. Valéshar didn't belong with me; it belonged with Link. And if the sword was with me, then he should be with me as well. That was how it had always been, how it was supposed to be.

Sadly I ran my fingers along the blade's cool surface, tracing the familiar symbols that spelled his name. _Link…_

"Your Majesty?"

I blinked, raising my eyes toward the tent flap. My guard had addressed me, but he didn't dare peek inside the tent unannounced.

"Yes?"

"Please forgive my disturbance," he called, "but a soldier by the name of Adam Carlen has asked to see you. He claims it's urgent."

_Adam? _I furrowed my brow, puzzled by this request.

"I will see him," I said, wrapping Valéshar and setting it aside.

A guard held the tent flap open as Adam cautiously stepped inside. I noticed his stiff movements, the way his eyes remained downcast. He stood there a moment, making no move to sit down. I urged him to do so, not wishing to stare up at him.

"What brings you here at this hour, Adam?" I asked, not bothering to hide my weariness.

He blushed, as though just realizing the poor timing of his visit, and struggled to speak.

"I…There is…something I need to…to tell you."

I studied his troubled face, bracing myself for whatever came next. "I'm listening."

He swallowed and bowed his head.

"I heard about how you helped all those soldiers today," he began slowly. "And it… amazes me how you can stay so calm and focused after all that's happened…"

I watched him silently; not knowing what to say.

"I heard about the general, too," he continued softly, "and I…I just wonder how you manage to stay so strong."

The familiar lump returned to my throat, and I barely forced it down.

"I've come to admire you a great deal the past few days," Adam said, lifting his gaze back to mine. "You don't fight with the soldiers or anything, but…you're brave too, in your own way."

His words struck a chord deep inside me, and I found myself blinking back tears.

"Adam—"

"I can't keep doing this," he spoke over me, his voice trembling. "I can't keep lying… It's not fair to them, t-to you…"

I stared at him, dreading his next words. His hands, pressed against his knees, were visibly shaking.

"Adam," I said quietly. "Are you confessing to desertion?"

He bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut before nodding.

"I was never sent by the general," he whispered. "I ran away… I fled like the coward I am."

A heavy silence fell between us. The small part of me that kept faith in Adam's innocence had died, but I was too exhausted, too numb to feel much of anything toward him.

"Guards." My voice sounded dull when I called them. Lifeless.

Two soldiers quickly entered the tent.

"Yes, your Majesty?"

"Place this man under arrest; he is charged with desertion."

They obliged, seizing Adam by his arms and pulling him to his feet. The younger soldier kept his head bowed, his dark hair veiling his face.

"You will keep this quiet," I addressed the guards. "Inform the captain in secret, but no one else. I do not wish to cause a scene."

"Yes, your Majesty."

My eyes then moved to Adam's slumped figure.

"Mr. Carlen."

He did not raise his head.

"Your fate will be decided when we return to the castle."

No reply.

"Take him away," I whispered, turning my face toward the canvas wall.

The guards bowed and forced their captive back outside. Not wishing to dwell on Adam's crime, I reached for Valéshar and rose to my feet. I placed the weapon on the small table, pausing when another item caught my eye. It was a garment of sorts, clean and neatly folded. Gently I picked it up, unfolding the royal blue material and holding it out before me. It was a cape—Link's cape.

He hadn't worn it to battle. No soldier did; capes only hindered one's movement. They were worn only for warmth or show.

Gently I stroked the rich fabric, picturing the last time I'd seen him wearing it. He had kissed my hand, perhaps for the last time, and walked away, out of my reach. Then he'd mounted, turned to give me that sad smile…

Two small stains darkened the cloth as tears rolled down my cheeks. Quickly I pressed it to my face, just as a trembling sob broke free. I dropped to my knees, unable to stop what I'd been holding in so long. I kept my face buried in his cape, muffling my grief so the guards wouldn't hear.


	10. Chapter X

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter X

I lay in my tent, curled up on my bedroll and wrapped tightly in Link's cape. On the ground beside me sat a mug of hot tea—sipped only twice. I shivered still, though just a little. Waking the remaining Sleepers had taken a similar toll as yesterday; what little rest I'd acquired hadn't helped as much as I'd hoped. Rest couldn't restore my dampened spirit; I imagined that was the reason I struggled.

My attempts to wake the Sleepers had been only half successful—most of them had already been taken. In desperation I had tried waking one of those unfortunate men, but the failed attempt had horrified me. Nothing but evil lingered in those bodies.

I sighed against the bedroll and closed my eyes, willing sleep to come. I was tired of feeling the way I did, so cold and empty. I cursed my weakness, my inability to overcome the effects of the evil. I wanted to occupy myself with work, take my mind off things.

_There's nothing more for you here_. _You came for him, and he isn't here. You've done all you can here, and the battlefield is no place for a queen._

But I wanted it to be. I wanted to fight beside my people. I wanted to confront Ashton with a sword in my hand—

"Zelda, may I enter?" Clef's anxious voice sounded outside the tent, disrupting my thoughts. "I must speak with you at once."

I rose from the bedroll, holding Link's cape around my shoulders like a shawl.

"Yes, come in."

He stepped inside, and by the look on his face I knew I spoke with the captain this time. My friend was there somewhere, temporarily buried beneath his title. His duty.

"Hurry and gather your things," he said, his voice filled with urgency. "You must leave immediately; it's no longer safe here."

"What?" I gasped. "Why?"

"The Vandelians are headed this way. They'll be beyond the border by tomorrow, and you should be well on your way back by then."

"I want to stay here," I told him, "I have the Gift, Clef; I can help."

"No, Zelda, it's too dangerous."

"They don't know I'm here," I argued. "And if it gets too dangerous I'll leave right away—"

"Zelda, I cannot allow it," he answered firmly. "The enemy already has Link. If you were captured as well, this war would be over." His dark eyes gazed into mine, pleading my cooperation. "And you know Link would have my head if I let anything happen to you."

I fell silent then, unable to argue. He was right; it would be an unnecessary risk. _And Link wouldn't want me here._

"All right," I muttered. "I'll return to the castle."

"Thank you," he breathed.

"I can take Carlen off your hands as well."

He raised his brow, but I saw relief in his features. "You will?"

"You have enough on your hands. I will deal with him."

"Thank you, Zelda; I—I know it's my duty now, but…"

"Think nothing of it, Clef. You have higher priorities."

We quickly gathered what few possessions I'd brought, and I folded Link's cape before stashing it in my saddlebag. Valéshar didn't fit inside, so I wrapped a thicker cloth around it and strapped the material in place with two small belts. I would attach the bundle to my saddle once Clover was ready for me.

"I've already sent for your horses," Clef said as we left the tent. "Your guards are waiting at the edge of the camp. Lieutenant Aiden will escort you to them." He gestured to the familiar raven-haired man who stood waiting nearby.

"Your Majesty," he greeted me with a small bow.

"Lieutenant," I nodded. A strange feeling came over me then, one I quickly recognized as foreboding. Turning to Clef, I grasped his arm and lifted my chin to meet his eyes. He bent closer, sensing I wished to speak softly.

"Clef," I whispered, suppressing the lump in my throat. "Please, he…he is my life…" Then the tears came with such force I could barely blink them away. One escaped down my cheek, but I hurriedly brushed it away.

"I know, Zelda," he murmured, touching my arm. "I'll get him back. I promise you."

I held his gaze, seeing the burning intensity in his eyes, and nodded. Then I pulled away, clutching Valéshar while Aiden took my saddlebag.

"I'll keep you informed as best I can," Clef said, reverting to his formal tone.

"Thank you," I said, forcing a weak smile. "Take care of yourself, Captain."

"You as well," he said sadly. "Give Siena and the children my love."

"I will. Farewell, Clef."

"'Til we meet again, Zelda."

.

As Aiden and I meandered through the camp, I began to notice something odd. The soldiers, they were cooking, sparring, talking…acting as though nothing had changed. My confusion must have showed, because Aiden explained in a hushed voice.

"We haven't alerted the men yet," he said. "We wanted to get you safely on your way before all chaos broke loose."

I nodded. "I appreciate that."

Aiden looked as though he wanted to say more, but the sound of a horse's whinny drew both our attention, followed by men's shouting. I looked around in concern but could not find the source of the sound.

"It's the general's horse," Aiden explained, a note of exasperation in his tone. "She's been…difficult in his absence."

"Epona," I breathed. _How could I have forgotten her? _"Bring me to her," I ordered the lieutenant. "I can calm her."

He did so without question, and I ran ahead of him the moment Epona's copper coat came into view. Three soldiers stood around her, struggling to catch her with ropes.

"Stop!" I shouted. "Don't hurt her!"

Epona paused at the sound of my voice then struggled toward me, ears upright. The soldier holding her reigns pulled hard, slowing her while the other two closed in.

"Your Majesty, stay back!" they called.

"I'll do no such thing," I snapped, stepping right up to Epona and snatching the reins. "How dare you treat her this way?"

The mare nickered softly, coming closer to nudge my shoulder with her nose.

"There now," I soothed, scratching her behind the ears. "That's better, isn't it?"

She snorted in reply while the soldiers watched, mouths agape. Aiden simply smiled.

"F-forgive us, your Majesty; we meant no harm…" one of the soldiers stammered.

"The general's horse has been wilder than usual—"

"Can you blame her?" I cut him off. "She hasn't seen her master in days; she's frightened and confused." I turned to the subdued mare, my heart stirring with empathy. "No doubt lonely too," I murmured, stroking her long nose. _I can't just leave her like this._

"Epona no longer has a place here," I told the soldiers. "She'll allow no one else on her back. Have her saddled and ready to travel; I'm taking her with me."

They obeyed their orders and left to retrieve her equipment while Aiden stepped closer—cautiously.

"It's all right," I told him. "She won't harm you."

"As long as you're here, I suppose not," he murmured, giving Epona a wary glance. "But what of your own horse?"

"She will come too, of course," I assured him. "She can carry some supplies. I can see my guards from here—please inform them of these last-minute changes. I'll join them once Epona is ready."

"As you wish."

He bowed and headed off, leaving me alone with Epona, who neighed and impatiently stomped the ground. I stroked her sleek neck, knowing what she wanted from me.

"I'm sorry, girl," I whispered, shaking my head at her. "It's just you and me for now."

She blinked and lowered her head, as though she somehow understood. I sighed and hugged her close, resting my cheek against her soft forehead.

"I know," I murmured, closing my eyes and swallowing hard. "I miss him too."

**xxxxxxx**

The conditions of our return journey proved wonderfully fair, but I could hardly admire the scenery. Green foliage, the blossomy scent carried on the warm breeze… The beauty of spring surrounded me, but I saw none of it.

Epona seemed relatively cheerful, most likely happy to be traversing open land again. I could tell she itched to take off at full speed, a thought which appealed to me as well. Unfortunately for us, such behavior was improper for a queen.

Our party traveled single-file—the two guards rode first and last while Clover trudged in the middle—separating me and Adam. The horse seemed disgruntled by my apparent abandonment, but I could make amends once we reached the castle.

I no longer made any attempts to speak with Adam. He was a confessed criminal; any further displays of friendship would be highly inappropriate. He never attempted to speak with me either—or anyone for that matter. I knew he was deeply ashamed and terrified, and I couldn't help but pity him.

Such observations remained in the back of my mind, however. The war dominated my thoughts, devouring whatever hope I had desperately clung to. And Link…

The uncertainty of his fate was almost more than I could bear. Day and night I anguished over him, sick with worry. Again and again I tried to contact him telepathically, only to hit a wall every time. I knew he was protecting me from something, but I ached to hear his voice, to know if he was near death. Prayer helped me find rest, but other nights I would cry myself into a fitful sleep.

.

We reached the castle in the dead of night. Dressed in her evening robes, Impa stood waiting for me at the foot of the entranceway stairs, along with several attendants who'd been alerted to my arrival.

She rushed forward to embrace me the moment my feet touched ground.

"We received a message by courier," she whispered. "Clef told us everything…"

I clung to her, too exhausted to speak.

"Come," she murmured, pulling away to cup my cheek, "straight to bed with you."

Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, she ushered me inside and up the stairs to my chambers. She did not attempt to make conversation, for which I was grateful. I feared speech would only bring more tears.

The maids had prepared a hot bath, and I washed thoroughly but quickly, too tired and depressed to relish the hot water against my cold, dirty skin. After slipping into a nightgown and braiding my damp hair, I stepped into the bedroom. Impa waited in a nearby chair, and quickly she rose to hand me a steaming mug.

"Drink this; it will help you sleep."

I shook my head. "I don't need it."

"It will help you sleep _through_ the night," she insisted, pressing the mug into my hand. I sighed but obediently drank the warm concoction.

"Thank you," I murmured, placing the empty mug on my bedside table. "I'm quite sure I'll fall asleep the moment I touch the pillows, so you can…" I trailed off when she stepped forward and took me in her arms.

"I'm so sorry, Zelda," She said softly. "I truly am."

I nodded against her shoulder, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"But you must not lose faith," she added, pulling away to stroke my face.

I nodded dumbly and turned toward the bed.

"I'll leave you to rest now," she told me. "Goodnight Zelda, I'll come see you first thing in the morning."

"Thank you, Impa," I replied softly. "Goodnight."

She paused at the door, giving me one last concerned look before closing it behind her.

I settled into bed, too exhausted to think. Sleep took me the moment my head touched the pillow.

**xxxxxxx**

The Council requested a meeting the following morning, and once again I found myself in the company of my eight advisors. Clef's letter lay open before me, decribing everything I already knew.

"I assume you've discussed the contents of this letter?" I asked them.

"We have, your Majesty."

I folded the paper with a sigh.

"I bring more ill news, I'm afraid," I told them. "The army is badly shaken. Our soldiers are strong, but they were hardly prepared to fight an army of the dead."

"Hardly prepared?" Vasilis sneered. "Has their training dwindled in the recent years?"

I met his gaze, unsurprised to hear the accusation behind his words.

"It is impossible," I said icily, "to prepare any man, no matter how fearless or skilled he may seem, for an encounter with the undead—simply because there is nothing comparable to the actual horror of it."

"But how can we possibly defeat an army of such monsters?" Timothus exclaimed.

I shook my head. "We don't need to. Link destroyed the staff, and Ashton cannot summon the dead without it."

"And without that advantage," Matteus added, "we are stronger than the Vandelians."

"We shall see, Matteus," Kinsley warned. "This war has only begun."

"So all we can do is wait for the next courier?" Renae murmured.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"We still have the deserter to deal with," Vasilis said with disgust.

"A hearing will be held this afternoon," I told them. "I wish to hear Mr. Carlen's explanation—the truth this time."

.

The hearing took place in a smaller, more private room—I had no wish to make a spectacle of it. Four large windows lined the back wall, and the intricately tiled floor provided some décor. I sat at the center of a large podium-like structure with four advisors seated on either side. The guards who had originally arrested Adam sat behind a smaller table off to the side. Heather, whom I had granted permission to attend, was present as well. Adam sat in a single chair at the center and lowest point of the room, his hands bound.

"Let us begin," I said once everyone had settled. "Lady Elena, please identify the accused for the witnesses of this hearing."

The minister rose and cleared her throat.

"Presenting to your Majesty, and to all other witnesses here: Adam Carlen. Age: nineteen. Status: soldier of the Seventh Company."

"Of what is he accused?"

"Mr. Carlen stands charged with desertion, as well as issuing false information to his authorities."

"Thank you, Lady Elena."

She nodded and took her seat.

"Mr. Tarken."

"Your Majesty?" he inquired, jumping to his feet.

"Please describe the events that took place the day you arrested Mr. Carlen."

"Gladly, your Majesty." The guard sared his side of the story in passionate and unnecessary detail. Eventually I was forced to interrupt before he could launch into another angry digression.

"Thank you, Mr. Tarken; that will do."

Once he had reluctantly taken his seat, I leaned forward to meet Adam's fearful gaze. "And as for you, Mr. Carlen, how do you plead?"

He swallowed, and with a flutter of sympathy I noticed just how pale and exhausted he appeared.

"I—" He hesitated, nervously glancing toward Heather. "Guilty…your Majesty."

"And have you anything to say for yourself?"

He raised his brow in a helpless manner.

"S-say, your Majesty?"

"The truth, Mr. Carlen." I regarded him sternly. "You will tell the witnesses here everything that transpired in the events of your desertion."

"Ah—I—well, I—"

"Perhaps you should start from the beginning."

He held my gaze, uncertainty lining his young features, and I nodded to him.

"The beginning," he repeated. "Well, it…it wasn't quite nightfall when the battle began. I ride with the very last Company, and so I couldn't really see what was happening. I heard the general speaking to us, rallying us…and then we were charging into battle."

He paused to take a deep, shaky breath.

"I drew my sword and... I fought as well as I could." His voice strengthened but still trembled with emotion. "Even though I hated every moment of it, I struck my enemy. I drew their blood… I did it for my kingdom, for honor…"

His gaze moved to Heather, who watched with an anxious expression.

"I—I _killed_ to protect the ones I love!" His voice broke and he bowed his head, struggling to compose himself. "I saw the life leave their eyes, and I knew…there was no going back."

The soldier paused to take another deep breath.

"I didn't think I'd make it through the battle. It all happened so fast, and before I knew it I'd killed three men. I—I wasn't even thinking about it; my body seemed to act on its own… I just didn't want to die…"

I listened in silence, my expression guarded. Heather, however, struggled to keep from crying.

"I remember feeling lightheaded and sick," he said quietly. "I thought I was going to fall off my horse when suddenly everything just…stopped. Something had happened… I don't know what exactly… All I know is that's when _they_ came."

"The undead, you mean."

He looked up, meeting my gaze and nodding fearfully.

"They came up out of the ground, and not just by the front lines. They were everywhere. Two of them rose up on either side of me and reached up with those bony hands… My horse reared and I nearly fell off, and then I found myself facing the most horrifying creature I've ever seen…" Adam's eyes widened as he recalled the memory. "Its eyes were so empty… so hollow… I felt cold all over, I—I couldn't move… I swear I would have died right there if another soldier hadn't gotten to it first.

"Those creatures were coming from all directions, closing in on me, staring at me… I was more terrified than I've ever been in my life. I felt…_trapped_. I just wanted to get away from them, and…"

Again his gaze moved to Heather, who held both hands pressed to her mouth.

"I didn't want to die!" he cried. "I wanted to see you again!"

Then, as if regretting his outburst, he clenched his teeth and hung his head. Heather also dropped her gaze, weeping silently.

"I just…lost it," Adam whispered, gazing down at his hands. "I turned and fled the battlefield as fast as I could."

He sighed heavily, fidgeting beneath our scrutinizing eyes.

"It was easier than it sounds, since I'm in the very last of the army ranks. I just kept going and going… I was too afraid to even look back, much less turn around. I rode through the entire night and into the next day. I—I wasn't in my right mind… I barely even remember it. All I know is I was driven by an intense desire to… to see Heather again, to have some sort of warmth after…" He trailed off with a shudder.

"Eventually I fell asleep on my horse and didn't wake until I, well…fell off, and it was then that I knew what I'd done, that I had unwittingly deserted the army. I was so scared but I couldn't go back… The general, he would have had me executed—"

"The general is not so quick to condemn, Mr. Carlen," I said sharply. "He would have listened to your tale before deciding your fate, just as I am now."

Adam blinked before lowering his gaze.

"Well… I haven't been a soldier for very long," he stammered. "I didn't know what would happen. So I came up with a plan to act as a courier bringing word of the undead army. I'm so ashamed of myself… I did a terrible thing, deceiving everyone like that."

Meekly he raised his eyes to mine. "I know it's useless to say I'm sorry, but I truly am. I've never even dreamed of doing anything like this. I—I was desperate…a desperate fool."

"Fool?" Matteus spoke up, his voice loud with anger. "You're more than a fool, boy; you're a coward!"

"Lord Matteus—"

"How dare you call yourself a soldier, you—"

"Lord Matteus!"

"You're a disgrace to the army—nay, to Hyrule!"

"Enough!"

My voice rang sharply throughout the chamber, followed by silence.

"Harassing the accused will solve nothing, Lord Matteus; you will control yourself!"

The minister obeyed but continued to glare in Adam's direction. The boy stared down at the floor, his face burning.

"Mr. Carlen," I said, using a gentler tone for the shaken young man. "Have you anything more to say in your defense?"

He answered with a shake of his head. "I have committed a terrible crime, and I must be punished for it," he said softly. "Do with me what you will."

I studied him a moment, suddenly wishing I could release him with a mere warning. But he was a deserter, someone who had done what every soldier struggled not to do. I could not grant him such leniency.

"Very well," I said quietly. "Witnesses of this hearing, you have heard the confession of the accused. From his own mouth, he has admitted his crime of desertion as well as providing false information to his authorities. These crimes come with serious consequences."

Heather's glistening eyes moved from her fiancé to me, widening with anxiousness.

"It is written," I continued, "that, traditionally, a deserter must be sentenced to death by execution."

Heather's gasp broke the silence. Adam remained motionless, his fists clenched.

"This punishment is meant to take away that which a deserter commits his crime to keep: his life. However, I find execution cruel and unforgiving, particularly for desertion. I understand it is a crime we cannot afford to dismiss, but I also know even the most cowardly of men can still be _good_ men. How can condemn him to the same fate as that of a cold-hearted killer?"

I could feel everyone's eyes as they awaited my final decision.

"Nevertheless, Mr. Carlen must receive a suitable punishment." Taking a deep breath, I then focused my full attention on Adam. "Mr. Carlen will be dishonorably discharged from the military. Due to the unusual circumstances of his desertion, he is to remain in the dungeons for one year, or, if the war has not ended in one year's time, he must remain imprisoned until the war has ended. And," I added quietly, "he is to be branded."

What little color had remained in Adam's face vanished as he struggled to absorb my words.

"Mr. Carlen," I said, allowing my voice to soften. "As you've said yourself, you committed a crime of cowardice. Though you will be serving time in prison, your real punishment won't begin until after you've been released. As a branded deserter, you will be forced to endure the shame of your crime for the rest of your life. It is my hope that, through your suffering, you will learn what it means to be brave."

Adam barely managed a nod, his face so white I feared he would pass out.

"This hearing is concluded."

Trusting my advisors would take care of Adam, I abruptly rose and left the room. I had nearly reached the closest stairway when I heard a voice call out to me.

"Your Majesty!"

I turned to see none other than Heather rushing toward me.

"Your Majesty," she said breathlessly. "Thank you, thank you so much…"

I stared at her, stunned by her words.

"How can you thank me after I just sentenced your betrothed?" I breathed

"You spared his life when you were expected to take it," she replied. "For than I owe you my life."

I held her gaze, recognizing the pain in her eyes—pain she held for Adam, not because of him.

"…He loves you very much," I said gently.

She nodded sadly.

"I know he does," she murmured. "And despite what he's done I still love him, just as much as I did before this mess."

"That is nothing to be ashamed of. You are engaged to be married, and a marriage must be built upon unconditional love." I smiled then, surprised by how easily it came. "I think you have a strong start already."

Heather nodded, though her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"You must wonder how I can love such a man, when your husband is the most courageous man in Hyrule." She spoke softly, as nearly everyone had started doing whenever Link was mentioned.

I hesitated, pondering her words. _Sometimes I wish he wasn't so courageous_.

"My husband is very brave, yes, but there are many forms of bravery. Your fiancé is brave too; he simply hasn't discovered it yet. I gave him his sentence in the hope that he will find his own courage."

Again Heather smiled, her eyes glinting with tears.

"You have such wisdom, your Majesty," she said. "Thank you."

"There is no need to thank me. It's always best to maintain a positive attitude, but you must understand the road will be difficult—for both of you."

She nodded, her face determined.

"I do understand. I can only imagine the problems this will bring, but right now… I'm just glad he's alive."

"You have your priorities straight," I smiled. "Good."

She gave me another small but genuine smile, and I felt a sense of understanding pass between us.

"Well, I shouldn't take up any more of your time," she said, dropping a graceful curtsy. "Good day, your Majesty; it has been a pleasure speaking with you."

"The pleasure is mine."

**xxxxxxx**

The days dragged by. Nearly two weeks of anxious monotony had passed, broken only by couriers bearing news from Clef. Two more letters had been delivered so far, and both brought news of victory on the battlefield. Yet Clef's most recent letter had troubled me.

"…_Perhaps it is our good fortune that Ashton has yet to reappear, though I must admit his absence does confuse me…"_

That Ashton had not been seen with his army since Link's capture was no coincidence. It didn't help that I hadn't seen another vision since before Link left…

"You asked for me?"

I started and turned to see Impa standing in the doorway, her expression soft.

"Yes." I shook my head to clear my thoughts. "I need a favor, Impa."

"Anything."

I moved to a nearby table, where a narrow item lay beside Clef's letters, wrapped in blue velvet. Gently I picked it up.

"Is that…"

"Valéshar," I murmured, stroking my hand over the fabric. "The sword is undamaged but requires a new scabbard." I sighed and lifted my gaze to hers. "I wish to have a replica of the original. The smithy should still have my father's plans…"

Impa stepped forward to take the sword in both hands, a sad smile touching her lips.

"Consider it done," she said gently.

My gaze lingered on the sword before I weakly returned her smile. "Thank you."

She reached for my cheek, seeing through my façade.

"How are you doing?"

I shook my head and pulled away, moving out onto my private balcony. She set the sword down and followed, waiting for me to speak.

"I can't stand this," I whispered. "This…waiting. Link is out there somewhere, helpless, and here I sit, waiting. He needs me, Impa. For once he _needs_ _me_, and I can do nothing." I bowed my head as tears stung my eyes.

"You are where you're meant to be, Zelda. It's Clef's duty to bring Link back."

"It is _my_ duty, as his wife," I hissed. "I would give anything to cast off my crown and find him myself."

I sighed then, slumping against the rail. A warm breeze swept through the garden below, carrying a few loose flower petals out beyond the castle walls.

"I want…I want to be Sheik again," I whispered, watching the petals vanish from sight. "I want to be free from these obligations that keep me from him."

"I know you do," Impa mumured, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But Link does not expect you to come after him. He wouldn't want that."

It was then that a movement in the distance caught my attention. I leaned forward, squinting to see two riders racing toward the castle at top speed.

"Those are soldiers…" Impa said. "More couriers so soon?"

"It only takes one courier to deliver a message," I murmured. A cold sense of foreboding slid down my spine. _Something is wrong._

Quickly I left my chambers, heading straight for the throne room with Impa at my heels.

.

Most of the advisors had already gathered in the throne room, as well as several guards and attendants.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, my voice echoing loudly through the large chamber.

Everyone shuffled aside, clearing a path as the riders I'd seen from my balcony bolted toward me.

"Your Majesty!" the younger man cried, falling to his knees. "You must leave immediately—it is not safe here!"

"The Vandelians are coming!" the older, bearded one said. "They're headed this way!"

My heart leapt to my throat, rendering me speechless.

"Forgive us, your Majesty… Forgive our failure…"

I stared down at them in shock. _Ashton has…won?_

"But how…?" I managed to whisper.

"Ashton has returned," the bearded soldier answered. "He has another staff!"

I blinked as the room tilted. Too fast… It was happening too fast…

Quickly Impa reached out, grasping my arm to steady me.

"You cannot stay here, your Majesty; you must flee to a safer place!"

"We were sent to make sure you evacuate—"

"No," I said quietly, closing my eyes and bringing a hand to my temple. "I will not."

Everyone, save Impa, stared in shock.

"Your Majesty?"

I straightened then, meeting their stunned faces with a stern, assertive gaze.

"I will not flee," I told them.

"But my queen—"

"It is over," I said, my voice regaining strength. "The war is lost, and Ashton rides to claim his victory."

"Then you must run while you can!"

"You do not understand," I silenced them. "Ashton does not simply come for the throne; he comes for me. If I am not here when he arrives, he will stop at nothing to find me. He does not wish to harm me, but he will harm those who stand in his way. So I will meet him here; I will not run."

A small part of me wanted to flee—that I could not deny. _But Ashton is not Ganondorf, _I reminded myself. _I have no reason to flee._

With that I turned and walked toward my throne, aware of everyone's stares. Lowering myself into the great chair, I fixed my determined gaze toward the entrance doors.

"Let him come."

Impa moved to stand at my side, but everyone else remained in place, gaping at me.

"Th-This is madness!" Matteus exclaimed. "Your Majesty, you cannot surrender like this!"

I shook my head.

"There is nothing more we can do," I told him quietly. "The war is lost."

Then suddenly, as if on cue, the clattering of hooves sounded outside the double doors. The guards readied themselves to fight while everyone else cleared the area.

"Guards, do not try to fight them," I shouted. "I'll have no one sacrificing themselves—nothing will come of it. Nothing but death and grief."

They lowered their weapons, glancing at one another with uncertainty.

_Wham._

The Vandelians began pounding on the doors, which had been barred shut. The doors were made of the strongest, finest wood in Hyrule, but Ashton would break through. Had I meant to keep him out, I would have raised a magical barrier. But such efforts would be in vain.

I certainly wouldn't open my doors to him, however. One must force their way into places they are unwelcome.

_Wham. Wham._

Gripping the arms of my throne, I drew a slow, steady breath.

_Wham!_

Then there was silence, though I could hear muffled voices and hurried movements outside…

"Fall back, they've got explosives!" one of the guards shouted. "Fall back!"

Everyone scrambled to distance themselves before—

_BOOM!_

A deafening explosion blew the doors clean off their hinges, scattering their pieces near the gaping doorway. The dying sunlight spilled into the throne room, outlining the dark, armored forms who forced their way inside.

All chaos broke loose as my guards rushed to fight. I tried to call them off, but my voice went unheard beneath the noise.

The fight ended quickly, however, as my men were grossly outnumbered. Only after the last guard had been forced to his knees did a new voice fill the quiet chamber. A low, familiar voice.

"That's quite enough of that."

I watched as the soldiers parted to reveal a man's silhouette. His armor clanked as he stepped forward, and in his right hand I saw the cursed staff. Slowly he closed the distance between us, his silhouette fading into sharp, satisfied features.

_Ashton._

I fixed him with an icy glare, hating him and his triumphant smile.

"Alas, Queen Zelda," he said with feigned cheerfulness, "we meet again."

I gave no reply.

"I see you've waited here for me like a good girl," he added, his voice darkening as the cheer left his face. "A wise decision."

Though it took all the tolerance within me, I refused to give him a response. From the look on his face, this clearly displeased him.

"Give up, Zelda," he snapped. "Your army has fallen; resistance will lead to nothing but bloodshed."

Quickly he turned and motioned to his men, and two soldiers stepped forward to throw two Hylians at my feet. There they lay motionless, blood pooling beneath their limp bodies. I bit back my gasp, struggling to appear unfazed.

"Unless you desire more of this," Ashton spoke, gesturing to the bodies, "you will surrender."

I hesitated, growing lightheaded as the weight everything crashed down upon me. I willed myself to speak, but my mouth felt dry as sand.

Ashton's attention then left me as he turned to address the ministers and attendants who had stood their ground while the others fled.

"I come with peaceful terms," he said, using that gentle, deceptive tone I knew all too well. "I wish only to take back what is rightfully mine—a place upon Hyrule's throne beside my queen."

"I am not your queen," I said coldly.

Ashton merely smiled. "We'll see about that."

He moved closer to me then, stepping over the two corpses as he did. "Time is up, Zelda. Your mighty army has crumbled, and your beloved husband is dead."

My heart lurched as several others gasped in disbelief.

"My husband is not dead," I said sharply. "You're bluffing."

Ashton shook his head, seemingly amused.

"Believe what you want, Zelda," he replied. "But you have nothing left to hide behind. Your only option now is to surrender; surely you realize this."

Again I hesitated, unwilling to say the words.

"Don't make me use this, Zelda…" Ashton traced a finger along his staff, smiling as he eyed me expectantly.

I could see my advisors nodding, urging me to obey his wishes. It was as he said, after all—yielding was my only option.

"I'm waiting, Zelda…"

My heart pounded; my thoughts blurred…and all the while I struggled to maintain a guarded expression. _You've already lost. It's over._

There was no way out this time. I was trapped.

_You must end this._

And so, staring Ashton down in the calmest, coldest manner I could manage, I acknowledged my defeat.

"So be it."


	11. Chapter XI

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XI

"_I saved her…from that life…"_

_He lay upon a black altar, stripped from the waist up and struggling against thick chains shackling him to the stone surface. A man stood at his side, hooded and cloaked. His dark hand gripped Link's forehead in a claw-like manner, and he spoke in a low, monotonous voice._

"_You didn't. You abandoned her, remember? In your heartache you stormed out. You let her go, and she suffers to this day."_

"_No… I could never—"_

_He jerked against his chains, crying out when his captor thrust a strange weapon against his side._

"_You know it to be true. You remember it."_

_Link's ragged, uneven breaths filled the silent chamber._

"_I remember her…as my wife…"_

"_That is a fantasy. A lie of your own fabrication." His hand tensed, tightening its grip on Link's forehead. "Must I show you again?"_

_Link whimpered as the man raised his torture device—_

_The far door suddenly swung open. _

_A young man stood in the doorway, frowning in the torchlight._

"_Have I missed the first act?" Ashton sneered._

_The cloaked man cursed and left the altar to shove Ashton back out the door, closing it behind him._

"_Idiot!" he hissed. "I told you to never enter without permission! Do you know how hard I've worked to get him in this condition?"_

"_What harm will it do?"Ashton scoffed, a hint of pleasure in his tone. "He's too delirious to know the difference."_

"_He is no ordinary man. One minor slip and I'll have to start all over again."_

_Ashton crossed his arms. "You said he would be finished by now."_

"_Yes," the older man murmured. "My attempts to force his allegiance nearly killed him, so I've had to change my strategy. But something is protecting him…something I don't yet understand…"_

_Ashton was not impressed._

"_What's your interest in him anyway?" he muttered. "He's nothing but a—"_

"_That is not your business," the elder man snapped. "How dare you come here? I've already released you."_

_Ashton merely smiled. "I was wondering if I might have his ring."_

"_His ring?"_

"_Yes. I'd like to give it to my bride-to-be. If that won't help prove his death, I don't know what will."_

_The cloaked man growled but reached into his pocket. "Fine, I have no use for it. Now get out of my sight."_

"_Gladly."_

_Ashton then turned on his heel while the other slipped back into the room with Link. Closing the door, he pulled out his torturing device, watching it emit a flare of dark energy._

"_Now," he murmured, "where were we…?"_

_His shadow fell over Link as pressed his bony fingertips into Link's temples._

"_You are called 'Link,'" he said, regaining his previous monotonous tone. "You have no surname and no knowledge of your origins. You have no family. Your mentor, Captain Shayne, died before he could take you as his adopted son. Princess Zelda, the woman you love, has been wed to Prince Ashton of Vandelius…"_

"_No," Link gasped, tears streaking his dirtied face. "I stopped her… I saved her…"_

"_That," the man spoke, raising his weapon, "is what you wish to believe."_

_Then he thrust the device against Link's neck, holding it there while his prisoner screamed in agony. Link thrashed against his bloodied chains, desperate to escape the magic searing through his body—_

.

My eyes flew open as I lunged forward, shocked to find myself sitting in bed. I saw only darkness, save for the moonlight spilling through the balcony doors.

"Link," I choked, burying my face in my hands. The vision remained painfully fresh in my mind, leaving me dizzy with panic. "Link…"

Desperately I reached out to him, struggling to make contact. But as always, I hit a wall—his telepathic barrier. It had changed recently. It felt cold, as though it should have lifted weeks ago. Some outside force had frozen it in place, and I knew the man in my visions was responsible, whoever he was.

"_I stopped her… I saved her…"_

The pain in Link's face had far surpassed the physical. His captor had somehow tampered with his memories, with everything Link held dear. He had done something to him, something that had struck deep. Too deep.

"_Princess Zelda, the woman you love, has been wed to Prince Ashton of Vandelius…"_

I flung the blankets aside and moved to the edge of my bed, wiping my tears with a trembling hand.

"Where are you?" I whispered, lifting my head to the window. _How can I find you?_

And then, like a flame sparking to life, I knew_._

_Ashton._

Angrily I rose to my feet, ignoring the cold air as I snatched open a vanity drawer. There, beneath my jewels, lay a single golden key. Grabbing it, I turned and knelt before the chest at the foot of the bed, thrusting the key into its golden lock.

_Of course Ashton is involved—he probably delivered Link to that monster himself!_

I paused suddenly, eyes widening as another thought stuck me. _It was a trade… Link for the staff…_

With a growl I flipped the latches free and hoisted the heavy lid. Inside lay various tools and weapons, including Link's hookshot and iron boots. The smaller items had been neatly wrapped in cloth and carefully stowed away, awaiting the day Link and I needed them again.

What I required lay on top, and quickly I pulled it out. Setting the bundle on the floor, I unrolled the cloth it to reveal a complete set of throwing knives. For a moment I simply gazed at them, admiring the way their blades glinted in the moonlight. Then, slipping one of the larger knives from its holder, I whipped it from its scabbard and held it before my face. My reflection stared back with determined eyes.

It was time I got some answers, one way or another.

**xxxxxxx**

I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so tense.

I sat in my bedroom, my every muscle coiled in suspense. My eyes gazed unseeingly out the window as my ears strained to hear the signal, the trigger for my attack.

Several hours had passed since Ashton had assaulted the castle and named himself King of Hyrule. After relinquishing the throne, I had been seized and escorted back to my chambers, forbidden to leave until Ashton allowed it. How satisfying that must have been for him, confining me to my room like a troublesome child.

But, despite my fury, I had forced myself to appear calm and collected. Even in my moment of humiliation, I'd retained an image of dignity and strength. Ashton had taken everything from me, but I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me in distress.

From what I'd gathered, Ashton had summoned the High Council that very night—excluding me, of course. For hours I had paced my chambers, seething as I pictured him in _my_ chair, feeding his lies to _my_ council, gaining the approval he didn't even need. I imagined he would soon do the same with the rest of the court. He would play the role of a peacemaker, erasing whatever remained of Link…

At this moment, however, Ashton came for me.

He had sent an attendant to make sure I was ready for him. And so I had prepared. I had dressed and pinned my hair back—I held no objections to making myself presentable. I was still Queen, after all. What Ashton did not expect were the knives I held in each hand. Two knives, one chance… I could not afford any mistakes.

My ears twitched as the far door—the one leading into the sitting room—creaked open. My eyes moved to the mirror, and, unmoving, I watched Ashton's reflection as he entered the room—alone.

"Zelda…?"

Resentment bubbled up inside, and I struggled to control my anger. _No mistakes…_

The door clicked shut.

"Zelda?"

With feline agility I sprang, thrusting my arms before me and summoning my magic. Ashton cried out as his back hit the wall. There he remained, trapped by my barrier.

Then the doors burst open and guards spilled into the room, but I was ready for them. Quickly I summoned another stronger barrier, forcing them back out into the hall. I rushed for the door, slamming it shut and bolting it before they could reenter.

Ignoring their loud pounding, I turned to face Ashton, whom I'd kept pressed against the wall. The naked alarm in his haughty face left me inwardly pleased.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped. "Put me d—"

"_Where is he_?" I shouted over him.

He stared at me until a slow smile curved his lips.

"You honestly think this will work?"

"Careful, Ashton," I replied, slowly moving closer. He tried to move his arms, but I tightened my magical hold on them. "I've learned a great deal since we parted ways all those years ago."

"And yet you've handed me your kingdom," he taunted.

"I could not defeat your entire army. But it's just us now… and I will have my answers."

"Or else what?" he sneered. "You'll cut me with those knives?"

"I know what you did," I said, my eyes boring into his. "I know you traded Link for that staff."

"Well, aren't you _bright_—"

"You will tell me where he is. Now."

Another smile.

"I already told you. He's dead."

"I know he's alive. Stop the charade and tell me."

"Oh, Zelda, Zelda, Zelda," he sighed with a mocking shake of his head. "Allow me to halt your little mission right here. I don't know where the scum is, and if he isn't dead now, he soon will be."

"Don't lie to me." For a moment I considered telling him my vision but decided against it on the side of caution. "I know you delivered him personally."

His green eyes stared into mine, and I quickly checked myself, making sure my queen's mask remained in place.

"He gave his life freely, you know," he murmured. "I made it quite clear he would never see you again if he destroyed the staff, and he did it anyway. He abandoned you, Zelda."

My heart gave a brief, painful lurch, though my face never showed it.

"Wrong," I countered. "He saved countless lives that day. He acted selflessly, something you'd know nothing about." I moved closer to him then, lifting my knife to his throat. "Now I won't ask you again—where _is_ he?"

He looked at the knife, then at me.

"This is where you lose," he smirked. "You will never find him because no one knows where he is. I myself have no idea. I delivered that peasant by use of magic—a temporary portal from my own camp. That portal is gone now, as are your chances of ever finding him."

I pressed the knife more firmly against his throat, cutting deep enough to draw blood. Ashton winced, but my rage left no room for satisfaction.

"I should kill you," I hissed, "for what you did to him."

"You won't, though," he struggled to say. "It isn't in you."

I pressed the second knife to his stomach, watching him suck in a startled breath.

"You don't know what I can do."

"But I know what you _can't_ do," he said with remarkable confidence, "and you are no murderer. Your peasant chose to surrender himself as a prisoner of war, Zelda. I have stolen nothing from you, and you know it. If you're going to be angry with someone, be so with _him_."

I hesitated, trembling as I stared at him. A terrible lump formed in my throat, summoning tears I couldn't blink away. _He chose to surrender himself… He chose to… _The logic of Ashton's words rang painfully clear, and my resolve began to slip away. Already I could feel my anger caving into despair…

Ashton caught the change in me, and with a growl he broke free of my magic.

"Weak as usual," he scoffed, shoving me to the floor. I landed hard on my knees, catching myself with my palms. A dizzying wave of fatigue swept over me, and I struggled to keep my vision clear.

"I'll forgive this little display of yours," he told me, smoothing his rumpled clothes, "but only this once. Consider it an act of goodwill."

I dug my nails into the rug, too overwhelmed to meet his gaze.

With an irritated sigh, Ashton then turned to unlock the doors. But, much to my fortune, it wasn't a group of guards that burst inside.

"Zelda," Impa breathed, rushing to my side and embracing me.

Ashton cast us a glare.

"There is to be another meeting in one hour," he said coldly. "I expect your attendance this time, Zelda. You, however," he addressed Impa. "You have no place in my council. Don't bother accompanying her."

The soft _plunk_ of something landing on the rug drew my attention, and I lifted my head to see a small gold ring lying just out of reach. Impa snatched it for me, glaring toward Ashton as she pressed it into my hand. Fresh tears stung my eyes when I realized what it was.

"He's gone, Zelda," Ashton said. "I suggest you forget him and move on. Things will become much easier once you do—for everyone."

With that he turned and left the room, and quickly Impa moved to lock the door behind him.

"I tried to get to you sooner," she said, returning to my side and stroking my hair. "They locked me in my chambers."

"I know," I said quietly. "I've been locked in here too."

"That ring…is it…?"

I nodded, swallowing as I opened my hand to show her. "Link's."

She glanced down at it, concern lining her face. She knew Link would not easily part with his wedding ring.

"Why would Ashton give you this?"

"To help convince me Link is dead," I replied softly. "But I know he's alive. I can feel it."

"Thank the gods," she breathed, her shoulders sagging with relief. "I've been…worried."

I fingered the ring a moment, remembering the way Link had studied his hand in one of my visions, wondering where his ring had gone. _Or if he'd ever had it to begin with…_

"I saw him, Impa," I whispered. "In another dream."

Her crimson eyes met mine as she waited for me to explain.

"I watched his captor torture him," Tears blurred my vision as I recalled terrible scene. "I think he was…brainwashing him somehow. Ashton was there… They had arranged some kind of trade…"

"Link for the staff," she murmured, stroking my hair.

"But I—I still don't know where he is. And Ashton, he doesn't know either… He used a portal…"

"Shh," Impa soothed. "We'll find him. You're having these dreams for a reason. We'll figure something out."

I swallowed, unable to share her confidence. I could not dismiss the things I'd been told. The things I had seen…

"_My attempts to force his allegiance nearly killed him…"_

"… _if he isn't dead now, he soon will be…"_

I was running out of time.

**xxxxxxx**

"My lords and ladies."

The Council watched as Ashton settled into his chair—my old chair. Sitting beside him in rigid silence, I occupied what used to be Link's chair.

"There is only one reason I have summoned you this fine afternoon," he began. "I wish to arrange a union with the queen."

I froze, relieved to see the ministers express similar surprise.

"Truly, my lord?" Elena inquired.

"Of course." He flashed a sickening smile. "She is to be my lovely bride."

He reached for my hand, but I snatched it away.

"That will be quite impossible, Ashton," I said icily, "since I am still wed to my current husband."

Ashton sighed and shook his head.

"As I have already announced with utmost certainty," he said, "your _late_ husband is very much deceased. In fact, while we're on that subject, I've decided to allow a small funeral in his remembrance."

I knew Ashton had allowed this only at the Council's insistence. Link was beloved by the common people; denying them a funeral service would have been most unwise—especially considering Ashton aimed to shed his label as a tyrant.

"One cannot have a proper funeral without a body," I reminded him. "Until I have my husband's remains, I refuse to acknowledge his death. And until I declare him dead, there will be no funeral."

"His corpse would be impossible to obtain," Ashton replied, casting me a sidelong glare. "I imagine he's unrecognizable at this point."

The ministers shared unsettled glances.

"My husband is alive," I said firmly. "Nothing you say will convince me otherwise."

Ashton shook his head, an amused smile curving his lips.

"Zelda, I don't know whether to admire your faith or laugh at it."

"Lord Ashton," Renae's gentler voice spoke, "her Majesty is not yet eligible for a second marriage."

Ashton turned to face her, annoyance darkening his features.

"And why is that?"

"She must enter into mourning. Courtly law deems a widow of royal status must mourn at least one year before she can begin any form of courtship or marriage."

Ashton fell silent, clearly debating whether he should respect this particular law or not. I suspected he would, since he wished to win over the court. Tradition was very important to them, and—since I would be made unavailable—I knew half the ladies would delight in their chances of capturing Ashton's interest.

"Perhaps," Vasilis spoke, "we could arrange a compromise. I propose that, due to the unusual circumstances, her Majesty mourns for six months, half the required time. Does that sound agreeable, my Lord?"

Ashton glanced toward him, clearly displeased. Then he turned back to me, and I gasped when his hand grabbed my thigh beneath the table.

"You have three months," he said with a glare. "Three months, and then you will be _mine_."

**xxxxxxx**

The days passed at an inconsistent pace. Some felt unbearably long while others ended as quickly as they began. The next thing I knew, a week had passed.

Life had begun settling into a new routine. Ashton continued to play the part "just conqueror," shoving me aside as he took control of my court. There were some who opposed him, since he'd named himself king without performing the Rite of Kingship, our sacred coronation ceremony. Ashton was not a religious man; his cooperation had its limits.

Attending court had become more unbearable than ever. Between watching the ladies flirt with Ashton and enduring the whispered complaints of those expecting me to magically do away with him, I wasn't sure how I managed it day by day.

Impa had managed to catch a good look at the markings on Ashton's staff, and I was stunned to learn she had recognized them to be Sheikan. We had researched the symbols in secret, confirming them to be part of an ancient spell used to raise the dead.

"_This spell is extremely dangerous," _Impa had told me, _"especially for a Vandelian like Ashton. It draws upon his very lifeforce to work…which limits his ability to use it. I feel that, if Ashton does not practice restraint, the dark energy could very well consume him…"_

"_But does it tell you anything about Link's whereabouts?"_ I had pressed. _"Was this type of magic used in a certain region?"_

"_The dialect is one belonging to a tribe that originated in the northwest…but Zelda, any Hylian with a drop of magic could dabble in these dark arts. Knowing its origin doesn't guarantee anything… I'm sorry, Zelda, but there just isn't enough here."_

Nevertheless I had wanted to dispatch a search party to scour the northwestern region of Hyrule. I would have done so immediately, had Ashton not interfered.

"_I know what you're doing, Zelda,"_ he had told me, _"and I won't allow it. I told you to forget him."_

So I found myself back at square one, powerless once again. The stress of it all, the passing of wasted time while Link suffered alone somewhere drove me near out of my mind. I often considered escaping the castle by teleporting with the Ocarina of Time, but returning undetected would be impossible. If I left—which I had every intention of doing—I needed a solid plan.

I also attempted to contact Link telepathically. Again and again I reached for him, hoping to gain some insight to his location, but to no avail.

My appetite had left me long ago; I ate only when Impa insisted, and slowly my health began to decline. I grew pale, fatigued, and sometimes even sick. Geoffrey Maddox, the castle's primary physician, diagnosed it as stress. I blamed my premonitions. Repeating visions of Link's torment plagued me almost every night, and I always woke in a cold sweat, sometims even sick enough to retch. It wasn't the first time my premonitions had affected me so strongly.

_And yet…_ I couldn't help but wonder at the symptoms. Fatigue, nausea, occasional dizziness…

_No._ I corrected myself, afraid to indulge in such hopes. _You'll just torture yourself__._

"Your Majesty?"

I sat gazing out the bay window in my sitting room.

"Yes?" I said softly, not bothering to look at the maid who had addressed me.

"Lady Siena has requested an audience."

I turned to her then, my heart skipping a beat.

"Lady Siena?" I breathed. "She's here?"

"Yes, your Majesty, she is waiting in the gardens. Shall I bring her to you?"

"No, I will join her," I said, jumping to my feet and hurrying out the door.

I rushed through the corridors, moving as quickly as I could without running. _Siena! _Ashton had forbid me to leave the castle grounds, so her timely visit was nothing short of a blessing.

.

Siena Bard, wife of Clef Bard, had been a dear friend for about seven years. We had met shortly after Link and I began courting in secret. One night he and I had taken a risk and attended a party at the Red Phoenix—the inn run by Siena and her brother, Jareth. After dressing in simple clothes and magically dying my hair brown, I had managed to pass as a peasant girl—if only for one night. Link had introduced me to Clef's wife and their baby girl, Rosie. They had already known who I was—Link had arranged everything with them ahead of time. In fact, Clef and Siena were the only ones beside Captain Shayne who had known of Link's love for me—excluding Impa and the rest of the sages, of course.

Despite knowing who I was, Siena had greeted me with genuine warmth. There had been no reservations with her, no deception, no awkward, courteous distance. After that night—which had been one of the most perfect nights I'd ever experienced—Siena and I had continued to visit each other, and I have cherished her friendship ever since.

.

I reached the nearest entrance to the gardens and pushed the door open, stepping out into the fresh midday air. Spring had begun to creep back into Hyrule, and the gardens had regained some of their natural beauty. Green buds and colorful blossoms had sprung in every courtyard. Sweet fragrances fillee the air, as did cheerful birdsongs.

I hurried past the evergreen hedges, wishing I had bothered to ask exactly where Siena waited. I soon found her near the rose bushes, however, one of the loveliest areas of the gardens. She appeared deep in thought, her knuckles pressed against her lips, and immediately I knew something was wrong.

At age twenty-seven, Siena was a slender, petite young woman—tiny when compared to her husband. As usual she wore her wavy light brown hair pinned up in a loose knot atop her head. A few wisps had escaped, framing her pretty face.

"Siena," I called to her softly.

She turned to me with a smile, and the two of us rushed to meet in a sisterly embrace. Suddenly I found myself struggling to hold back tears.

Perhaps it was because she understood my predicament so well. Siena and I were kindred spirits—we had both married military officers, men we loved and feared for. She didn't simply imagine the pain of awaiting her husband's return; she _knew _it.

"It's so good to see you," I whispered.

"I tried to come sooner," she said. "They wouldn't let me see you."

"I'm sorry about that," I murmured. "Ashton is…trying to keep me on a tight leash."

"I assumed as much." Her sea green eyes studied me with genuine concern. "Come, let's sit a while."

She led me to a nearby bench, and the two of us sat down. Above us a bird sang a gentle melody, oblivious to the changes in her castle home.

"To be honest, you seem much better than I'd anticipated," she said softly.

"You mean because of Link."

She looked at me, her face full of uncertainty. "Oh, Zelda," her voice shook, "the talk I've heard of him…"

"Don't believe it," I told her. "It isn't true."

"You mean he's alive?" There was something beyond relief in her gaze, something desperate, but I was too grieved to see it. "What's happened to him?"

"If I knew I wouldn't be here," I whispered. "I can't prove it, but I know he's alive out there. I can feel it, Siena. But I…I have dreams about him—terrible nightmares—and I… I don't know how much longer he has." My voice quivered as tears built up in my throat. "Siena, I'm so scared for him…"

She embraced me, holding me tight and stroking my hair.

"You have every right to be scared," she soothed. "It's a terrifying thing not knowing what's become of your husband. It leaves you feeling so powerless…"

There was a slight tremor in her own voice, and something told me it wasn't for Link.

"Siena," I said, pulling away to study her face, "has something happened to Clef?"

She turned away, grief lining her face.

"Oh, Zelda, I'm so sorry," she struggled to say. "There's another reason I came here today. I did want to see you—believe me, I've been so worried—but I need your help…"

I grasped her wrist, my heart pounding with dread. "Siena, what has happened?"

She met my gaze, her gentle eyes clouded with fear.

"Clef," she choked. "He never came home."

I stared at her.

"What do you mean he never came home? All the soldiers have returned home—Ashton made the order himself."

She shook her head and wiped her eyes.

"I've been asking everyone, even the Vandelians—they frequent the Phoenix now. And they…they said he's a prisoner at Vandelle Castle. They were all having a good laugh about it too," she seethed as a tear slid down her cheek, "as though our pain is some kind of _joke_."

"Siena..."

"And still had to serve them," she whispered, the rage burning in her eyes. "They threaten us… We have no choice…"

She burst into tears, covering her face with her hands. I put my arm around her shoulders, but all I could think about was Clef's face that day…

"_I failed to protect him… I've failed Link, and I've failed you."_

"_I'll get him back. I promise you."_

The look in his eyes…that anguished determination…

_Did I cause this?_

"I will speak to Ashton about it," I said, closing my eyes as the dread crept up my spine.

Siena's sobs quieted and she looked at me with widened eyes.

"You would do that for me?"

"Of course I would, Siena. I'll do whatever I can."

"But how?" she whispered, desperation lining her face. "What if something happens to you?"

"Siena," I reached for her hands, giving them another squeeze. "Don't worry about me. I will not rest until Clef is home with you and your children. I promise."

"Oh, Zelda…" A smile brightened her tearstained face before she embraced me tightly. "How can I ever thank you?"

"Nonsense, Siena…"

"It's just been so awful at home. The children keep asking when their father's coming home, and I'm running out of excuses…"

Her voice grew suddenly distant, and the gardens blurred as I felt myself sway. I caught myself on the bench and shook my head, but the dizziness remained. Vaguely I felt Siena's arms around me, helping me stay upright. Again and again she called my name, but she sounded miles away…

And then, a flash—

_He lay upon the altar, his battered body thrashing against the bloodied chains binding his wrists and ankles…_

"_Zelda!" His hoarse, panicked voice filled my ears. "Zelda!"_

"Link?" I whispered.

"Zelda, what's wrong?"

Something was slipping away…something deep inside me. It left me like sand through a closed fist, steadily lessening…

"Zelda, please!"

_With a sinister laugh, a hooded man reached into his cloak and pulled out a small dagger. Slowly, as though relishing in the moment, he drew the weapon from its scabbard, revealing a jet black blade._

"_How ironic," he grinned, "that your greatest strength would be your only weakness…"_

Horror struck me as I realized that sensation was my telepathic bond with Link. It seeped from my consciousness, fading with each passing moment.

_Link!_ Desperately I reached for him, crying his name again and again. _Liiink!_

"_Zelda!"_ He sobbed between each anguished cry. _"ZELDA!"_

_Link, I'm here! I'M HERE!_

Panic rose in me like bile, choking my breath. I fell to my knees, gasping for air as I fought to make contact…

But deep down, I knew he couldn't hear me.

_With a laugh he pressed the dagger into Link's flesh, staining the blade red as he dragged it across Link's heart. Link threw back his head and screamed—_

Something shattered deep within me, and my own scream cut the air as I hit the ground. Siena's voice buzzed in the background; I couldn't make out her words. In that moment, I knew only one thing:

I no longer felt Link's presence.

His warmth was gone; _he _was completely and utterly gone. I felt no lingering trace of him, not even a whisper. There was only emptiness… nothingness… a void.

It was too much… too much…

"Link…"

Then blackness took me, and I knew no more.


	12. Chapter XII

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XII

I woke to a quiet, sunlit room, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the light filtering through the balcony doors. Outside the birds sang jubilantly as the budding leaves danced in the May breeze.

Breathing a heavy sigh, I sat up in bed and folded my knees against my chest, reflecting on the past week. It all seemed like a blur; I remembered only hazy pieces of it.

After blacking out, I'd been rushed to my chambers and examined by Lord Maddox, the castle's head physician. He had found no signs of illness and diagnosed my symptoms a result of too much stress and grief. By nightfall, however, I'd been plagued with a terrible fever. A terrible emptiness had consumed me, and for hours I had writhed against the sheets, crying Link's name in a panicked, delirious state. Impa had never left my side, even after I fell into an uneasy sleep.

For two days the fever had showed no sign of dropping before it finally broke. By the third day I was able to tell Impa what had happened. In a weak and trembling voice, I described the breaking of my telepathic bond with Link.

"_Our Triforce pieces make the bond possible…"_ I had struggled to say._ "Nothing can ever break it, Impa, nothing. There's only one reason it would break like this… There's only one reason I would stop feeling him…"_

I had broken off, unable to say the words. Judging by the fear in her eyes, I hadn't needed to.

"_This cannot be…" _she had stammered, her face etched with fear. _"He is the Hero of Time…"_

"_But still a man," _I had whispered. _"Still mortal."_

_._

That had been four days ago, and my health had improved since then. I was able to leave my bed now, though today would be the first I'd left my chambers. An unfriendly world lay outside the walls of my sanctuary, but I had to face it. I would not crumple into a recluse while Ashton ruled my kingdom.

I longed for Impa's comfort, but that was currently impossible. I had sent her away the previous morning, after she had—reluctantly—broached a very serious subject.

"_It concerns Link…and the Triforce of Courage,"_ she had said.

I had simply looked at her, knowing what she meant to say. The same thought had crossed my mind.

"_You know the legend. If the Keeper should fall while protecting his piece of the Triforce, it shall leave his body, shatter into eight shards, and scatter about the land."_

"_Yes,"_ I had whispered.

"_I don't need to tell you how serious that could be. If anyone got their hands on a single shard, it would be—"_

"_Disastrous."_

There was silence as Impa waited, unsure of what to say.

"_Then you must go," _I finally told her. _"Today."_

"_Today?"_ she had breathed. _"Zelda, I meant… soon, but—"_

"_There is no point in delay. You must find them as soon as possible."_

"_Zelda, I won't leave you like this."_

"_This is far more important than me. I will not keep you here while the shards lie waiting out there."_

"_Zelda—"_

"_You must go, Impa," _I had met her gaze anxiously. _"The one in my visions… he could be searching already. Summon the others and find them. We cannot allow any more pain to come of this."_

.

And so she had left, later that very morning. I hadn't wanted to send her away; Impa was the only real comfort I had left in the castle. But I could not let my grief threaten the safety of my people.

I knew Impa sought something other than pieces of the Triforce of Courage. She sought evidence, proof that Link had truly left us. If she never found those pieces, there was hope.

But I didn't need evidence. I felt the void he left behind every moment of every day. I held a darker hope—that finding the pieces would draw out the bastard who killed him.

Restlessly I flung my blankets aside and rose from the bed. I reached for my robe, slipping it on as I walked toward the balcony. It frightening me how quickly my energy left me. Just a few steps out of bed and already I considered settling back under the covers. Swallowing the urge, I opened the glass doors and stepped out into the fresh air. I rested my hands on the rail and took a deep breath, closing my eyes as I released it slowly. The breeze tugged at my loose, uncombed hair, and I shivered beneath my thin robe.

My telepathic bond with Link had been like a warm blanket wrapped about me. For thirteen years I'd felt him there, if only in the recesses of my mind. The bond had grown stronger with our love, and after our wedding night, after we truly became one, Link and I had sensed not only each other's presence, but our emotions. I had _felt _his love, just as he felt mine. For two years I had lived each day enveloped in that warmth… and now he was gone.

The blanket had been torn away, leaving me cold and exposed. Link's presence had filled me with a constant sense of security, and without him I felt alone and anxious.

I slumped over the rail in despair, silent tears wetting my face. I couldn't do it; I couldn't go on like this… _How can I, when half of me is missing?_

A timid knock against the bedroom door broke through my miserable thoughts.

"Milady?" came a muffled voice. "Are you awake, milady?"

The door opened when I did not reply.

"Oh, there you are," the maid greeted me cheerfully. "It's so good to see you up and about."

Again I said nothing, so she went ahead and opened my wardrobe, intending to set out my clothes for me.

"Shall I help you with your hair today, milady?"

I sighed and turned from the balcony—only to stop dead when I saw the black gown spread out over my bed covers.

"Black?" I whispered.

The maid looked up, confusion lining her young face.

"Yes, milady... You've entered into mourning now; have you not?"

I stared at her, then at the gown. The mere sight of it left me trembling. Black. The mourning color.

_Suitable for a widow._

It was all too real… too real…

"Get out," I whispered.

"M-milady?" she stammered.

"I said get _out_!"

Frightened, the girl hurried out of the room and shut the door behind her. Angrily I snatched the dress and threw it back in the wardrobe, watching it land in a heap at the bottom corner. Then I grabbed a blue gown and stepped into it, struggling to do the buttons myself. Once I had finished dressing I ran a brush through my hair and pinned it back out of my face. As I glanced in the mirror, I felt a sudden twinge of guilt for snapping at the maid. She had been right to choose the black gown, since I had officially entered into mourning. But I couldn't wear the gown of a widow. I just couldn't.

Halfheartedly I chose a pair of golden earrings and clipped them in place before leaving my chambers. I needed to get out; I needed to distract myself from this room so full of memory.

.

I wandered the halls in a trance, ignoring the murmured greetings of those who passed by. I knew I should hold my head up like a true queen, but I couldn't bring myself to care. All I knew was the cold ache inside, the gnawing emptiness that had once been his warmth.

Eventually my footsteps slowed, and emerging from my melancholy I realized I had wandered into the castle infirmary. The place was empty, now that the war had ended, and I stood there in the silence, reflecting upon the memories the place held for me. Many were painful, filled with the suffering and death that occurred within the infirmary's walls.

_Not just suffering_, I reminded myself as I continued walking. _This is also a place of healing…_

I continued on toward the end of the corridor, stopping as my eyes settled upon a closed door labeled _Room A_. It was one of eight special rooms reserved for high ranking officers. The rooms were private; housing only one patient at a time, and they featured slightly more lavish furnishings than the other rooms.

Drawing a deep breath, I reached for the knob of _Room A_ and slowly stepped inside.

A double bed lay against the nearest wall, complete with clean white sheets and feather pillows. Beside it sat a table, large enough to hold a lamp, a water pitcher, and a bowl. Two armchairs sat against the walls—one near another table by the far window and one near the bed. To the far right stood a closed door, which led to the adjoining bath.

Then, before I could prepare myself, memories flooded my mind with such force I half expected phantoms to appear before my eyes.

.

He had nearly died in this room.

.

It had happened over two years ago, during the Retribution War against Tar Alem and Vandelius. I had woken in my chambers one night, knowing something terrible had happened to Link. I had rushed toward the infirmary in a panic, alarmed to feel his steadily weakening presence. I ran all the way to _Room A_, pushing my way through the busy healers. There I had found him lying on the bed, barely breathing and covered in blood.

Link had suffered a near fatal stab wound to the chest—one in which the blade had run him through, creating a second wound on his back. Additionally, he had suffered a serious head injury, and the healers had found large bruises covering his right side. Maddox, who had attended to Link personally, had been perplexed.

"_It's a miracle he survived,"_ he had told me. _"But his injuries leave me feeling rather…suspicious."_

"_Suspicious?" _I'd echoed, feeling a chill slip down my spine.

"_These are odd injuries for a master swordsman like the captain here. From what I can gather, he was stabbed, knocked to the ground, and then kicked multiple times on his right side. That's where those bruises came from—his lower ribs are broken on that side. If you ask me, I'd say he was definitely caught off his guard."_

I had stared at him, struggling to keep my voice even as rage coursed through my veins.

"_Are you suggesting a Hylian did this to him?" _I had whispered.

"_I'm just saying it's suspicious."_

I had spoken with Clef later that day—as he was the one who had rushed Link off the battlefield in time to save him. What he said had shocked me.

"_There was a body covered with a Tar Alemian cloak… It was one of many, so I assumed it was just another fallen enemy. But just as I passed by, the wind picked up… and there he was."_

I knew it had been divine intervention.

.

I stared at the unoccupied bed, remembering how difficult Link's recovery had been—physically and emotionally. I remembered how disoriented, how frightened he'd been when he woke. Weakly he had clasped my hand, begging me to stay with him. And stay with him I had, as often as I could. I became his unofficial caretaker, spending hours alone with him. During this time I had begged him to tell me the truth about his injuries, and reluctantly he had obliged. In a hushed, near emotionless voice he had confirmed Maddox's suspicions—a Hylian had indeed attacked him. Not just any Hylian—his commanding officer, General Keiton.

In the past, General Keiton had been a highly respected man, and he had served Hyrule well…in his prime. Something had gone wrong as he neared his retirement, causing Keiton to become increasingly paranoid. He had never approved of Link but envied him for his skill and suspected his mysterious origins. His contempt, combined with his abnormal paranoia, had led him to attempt murder. His actions had been premeditated, Link and I suspected, and others had been involved—people to cover his tracks. These accomplices remained unknown, and if there had been any witnesses, they had yet to come forward.

Thus the late General Keiton was still a highly respected man, since his crime was never exposed. He'd died on battlefield less than a fortnight after Link was brought to the infirmary, and that had been the end of it. Link had no desire to shed light on a dead man's crime—especially when exposing Keiton could easily create suspicion regarding Link's own intentions. I had promised to keep Link's secret, but I refused to attend Keiton's funeral—and every other gathering in his honor.

My actions had surprised Link. Before his near-death experience, I had always been so careful to keep our relationship a secret. A part of me had worried about maintaining my reputation, as though loving him was wrong somehow. My upbringing had made me that way, and it took nearly losing Link before I saw the foolishness of my ways.

I had recognized how much Link needed me. His experience had shaken him, leaving him feeling betrayed and vulnerable. He had fallen into a sort of depression, and I had done everything I could to pull him back out of it. I wanted him to feel safe again, to feel loved and appreciated. It had killed me to watch him endure such pain—oftentimes I had thought about how much simpler his life could have been, had he stayed away from politics.

"_Suppose you left all this," _I had said to him one day, a couple of weeks into his recovery. _"You could go live in the country, lead a peaceful life."_

He had scoffed, as he always did when I said such things.

"_How terribly boring."_

"_Nonsense. Your beautiful country-girl wife and children would keep you occupied."_

I had known it bothered him when I talked like that, but he knew I needed the reassurance once in a while.

He had sighed, giving me a dark look before reaching for my cheek.

"_Now who's talking nonsense?"_

I'd finally stopped caring how much the court gossiped. Naturally the hours I spent with Link each day were scandalous. My father had overlooked it a while, knowing how close we had been as children. My absence at the funeral, however, had finally snapped his patience.

At that point, I couldn't keep my secrets any longer, and so I told my father precisely what Link had begged me not to—that Keiton had attempted murder. When I had finished my long and angry explanation, my father had asked me one simple question:

"_Exactly how long have you been in love with Captain Link?"_

I had burst into tears, launching into a trembling explanation before begging him to let us court. He had refused and dismissed me, ordering me to return to my chambers.

Unbeknownst to me, my father had spoken with Link shortly afterward. My fears had been in vain, for it was during this conversation that he granted Link permission not to simply court me, but to marry me. Link had sought me out afterward, of course…

.

Weakly I sank onto the bed, consumed by my memories as I stared unseeingly at the tiled floor. I remembered that day so clearly, as though it had happened yesterday…

.

_I whirled around at the sound of a knock._

"_Who is it?" I called anxiously._

_The door opened as Link stepped inside, his face expressing what I saw as quiet concern._

"_Link—" I ran into his arms, releasing a stream of muffled confessions against his chest. "I had to tell him—I'm so sorry—I didn't know what else to do, and now he knows—"_

"_Shh, darling, it's all right," he soothed. "I've already spoken with your father."_

_I pulled away to meet his gaze, eyes wide._

"_What did he say?"_

_Link hesitated, touching my face as he studied me with a tender, sad expression. I was alarmed to see tears in his eyes._

"_What is it?" I pleaded, clutching his shirt. "What has he done?"_

_He shook his head, a soft smile touching his lips._

"_Everything," he whispered, his thumb brushing my cheek. "Everything we ever hoped for."_

_I stared at him, feeling my heart begin to race._

"_Zelda," Link cradled my face in his hands, hushed excitement brightening his features. "Zelda, he gave his permission."_

_The room seemed to sway then, and I grabbed his shoulders for support._

"_To court?" I whispered, unable to believe it._

_He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me against him._

"_No, darling," he replied softly, his eyes gazing softly into mine, "to _marry_."_

_If not for Link's arms, I surely would have hit the floor._

"_To…to marry?" I breathed._

_He nodded, swallowing as he reached for my hands._

"_Link…"_

"_Come, over here," he whispered, leading me out onto my balcony._

_It was late afternoon, and outside the autumn leaves blew about the gardens below. The sky was cloudy, and the air chilly, but I felt only the warmth of Link's hands._

"_Five years ago we stood here," he said, his voice hushed, "right here on this very balcony. Do you remember what I said to you that day?"_

"_You told me you loved me," I replied softly, my voice trembling._

"_Yes," he whispered, giving my hands a squeeze. "I've loved you since the day I met you. And that will never, ever change…"_

_His own voice shook slightly, as did his hands, making me ache with love for him. But something else lurked in the back of my mind, something anxious…_

"_For years we've held on to each other, knowing it was hopeless," Link said. "But we don't have to be afraid anymore. We don't have to hide anymore…"_

_Then, slowly, he knelt on one knee, holding my right hand in both of his. My heart pounded against my chest, the blood rushed in my ears…_

"_My heart is yours; it's always been yours. But now…" he swallowed, struggling to keep his voice steady, "…now you can have all of me, if you wish it…"_

_I gazed down at him, shaking uncontrollably as the breeze blew about us. In that moment, as I looked into his beautiful blue eyes, I felt a terrible rush of fear—for him._

"_This—this is all so sudden," I stammered, pulling my hand from his and backing away. "Are you sure this is what you want?"_

"_What?" Confusion lined his face as he rose to his feet. "What are you talking about?"_

_I looked up at him, guilt and uncertainty closing around my heart._

"_Link, you… you were nearly killed recently, all because of your rising status—"_

"_That had nothing to do with you," he argued, his tone darkening._

"_You don't know that," I whispered. "How will people react if they learn you're bound to be Prince of Hyrule? Assassins could rise up left and right!"_

"_Zelda, that's ridiculous—"_

"_But it isn't, Link! You've heard the talk; enough people suspect you as it is! There's no telling what could happen—"_

"_Then it's a risk I'm willing to take," he said firmly, stepping closer._

"_Well I'm not," I countered, gazing at him fearfully._

_Link stared at me, stunned. "Zelda…"_

_Inside my head was spinning—I could hardly believe what I was saying. Yet a part of me had always feared what an actual marriage would do to Link. In the past I had kept this fear deeply buried, but like a weed it had sprung to the surface, choking away my joy._

"_Zelda, what are you saying?" The fear in his voice pierced my heart. "Are you rejecting me?"_

"_I…I don't know," I sobbed, looking at him helplessly. "I don't know…"_

_Link studied me a moment, then breathed a heavy sigh._

"_Oh, Zelda." He took me in his arms, stroking my hair as I clung to him. "Listen to me. I've had years to think about this, Zelda—years. You think I don't know the risks and responsibilities involved with marrying the Princess of Hyrule? I tried to talk myself out of loving you long ago, but it's impossible. I'm miserable without you. I know you're trying to protect me, but pushing me away is the most painful thing you could do to me."_

"_My life is a cage," I choked. "It's nothing but a stressful, dangerous cage for you."_

"_That isn't true," he murmured, kissing my temple. "And even if it was, I want to share that cage with you, no matter what."_

_I shook my head. "Link, I—I know I don't talk about it, but I've always…worried about what a marriage would mean for you. It was easy to push that fear away when it seemed impossible, when we kept everything so secret. But now, after everything that's happened—"_

"_You've never left my side," he said, pulling away to meet my gaze. "After everything that's happened, you never once tried to stay away. You haven't cared about secrecy in weeks. The court knows about us, Zelda—or at least they suspect. If you're so afraid for me, why did you allow this? Why didn't you stay away?"_

_I gazed into his anxious face, struggling to find my voice._

"_Because you needed me," I whispered._

"_Yes," he cupped my cheek, tears glistening in his eyes. "And I still need you—I always will. Don't you see? There's no point in you trying to protect me like this. You are my soul mate; I will never be happy without you."_

_I fought back a sob, leaning my cheek into his palm._

"_I need you too," I choked._

"_Then stop this, darling, please…" his voice softened as he thumbed away my tears. "Marry me, Zelda…"_

_I looked into his eyes, seeing the love and desperation behind them. My body trembled in his arms, and I swallowed hard as my mind began to clear. In that moment I knew—I couldn't live without him either. It was as he said—we were soul mates, and fate had finally, _finally_ brought us together. If I let such uncertainties pull us apart, I would regret it the rest of my life._

"_Yes," I whispered, touching his cheek. "Yes, I will marry you."_

_His face broke into a relieved smile, and I embraced him fiercely, struggling to control my sobs as he held me. I concentrated on the feel of him, of his arms around me, his head touching mine. I breathed in his scent, letting it calm me. Gradually my anxiousness lessened, leaving a tingling sense of happiness in its wake._

"_I ruined your proposal," I murmured against his shoulder._

_Link laughed softly._

"_You said yes; that's all that matters."_

_I held him tighter, closing my eyes as a sense of wonder washed over me. Above us the clouds gathered as the wind picked up, but for us time stood still. The moment lingered as though in a dream…_

_He drew back a bit, angling his head to kiss me softly._

"_It isn't a dream," he whispered against my cheek. "Not this time."_

_I kissed him back—tenderly. We touched with unnecessary gentleness, fearing our moment would shatter after all._

"_I have something for you," he murmured in my ear._

_I looked up at him and stepped back as he reached into his pocket._

"_I know I was supposed to give you this during the actual proposal, but…" He pulled his hand from his pocket, grasping what I knew to be a ring. "…It didn't quite work out that way…"_

_I smiled, yielding to the mirth which bubbled up inside me._

_Then he pressed the ring into my hand, closed my fingers over it, and kissed my knuckles before letting go. Slowly I reopened my hand, and my heart gave a painful lurch._

_It was his mother's ring._

"_Link," I gasped as yet more tears blurred my vision. "Link, I cannot take this… It's all you have left of her…"_

"_Yes," he said softly, "and I want you to have it."_

_I shook my head, ready to argue further, but he spoke first._

"_Zelda, I'm giving you this _because_ it means so much to me." He stroked my troubled face, gazing deep into my eyes. "You are my family now, and this ring symbolizes that better than anything custom-made could."_

_I did not resist when he took my left hand and slipped the ring onto my finger._

"_There, it fits," he smiled, a hint of relief in his voice. "She must have been tiny like you."_

_My gaze never left his face, and when his eyes met mine I threw my arms around his neck, kissing him ardently. He murmured a laugh and lifted me up, letting me wrap my legs around his waist. We kissed again and again, oblivious to the rain as it began to fall—_

.

"Stop it," I whispered aloud, closing my eyes as more tears escaped. _Just stop thinking about him._ Angrily I wiped them away, wishing I could rip the memory from my mind. Sniffling quietly, I fingered the small red stone of his mother's ring. Part of me wanted to remove it, to put it away somewhere out of sight, but I'd found myself unable to. Despite the grief it brought me, I still held a sense of reverence for it.

_He's with her now... and his father too. After twenty-four years they're all together again._

This brought me no comfort. The unfairness of it swelled within me, tightening my chest and throat. _But he was mine... He was my husband, and I want him back!_ I clenched my fists, gritting my teeth as I fought not to cry.

Then, releasing something between a growl and a sob, I rose from the bed and strode for the door, slamming it shut behind me. Bitterness frosted my demeanor, darkening my features and quickening my step.

_I don't have time to grieve right now_. _My life must go on without you, and I have a promise to keep._

Briskly I left the infirmary, my footsteps echoing loudly as I headed toward the halls of the court.

**xxxxxxx**

Lords and ladies crowded the main halls, having gathered to dine with Ashton. This was more of a Vandelian tradition they had adopted—Link and I had never shared our midday meal with the court, nor had my father. It was an expensive tradition, and one that resulted in a lot of wasted food. The Council had tried to put a stop to it, but Ashton had the court's approval on his side.

I could tell the lords and ladies were shocked to see me present, as I'd declined to announce my attendance that day. Nevertheless, they greeted with the usual bows and curtsies, gestures I did not return. The whispers followed me, however, as the ladies observed my attire.

"A blue gown… Is she not supposed to be in mourning?"

"Perhaps she's in denial. She did love him so…"

"How very tragic, to be widowed so young…"

I ignored them, focusing instead on Ashton, whom I found standing near the banquet table, chatting with a giddy, colorful group of ladies.

He had of course known of my illness the past week. From what I had heard, he had expressed some heartfelt concern for me once and never mentioned it again. Perhaps it angered him that Link's death could have such a strong effect on me. The diagnosis had been grief, after all. He had declined to visit me, for which I'd been most grateful.

"Good heavens, Zelda," Ashton exclaimed, addressing me over the ladies' heads. "I had no idea you'd be joining us…"

"There is something I wish to discuss with you," I said calmly, jumping to the purpose of my visit.

"I see." His smile wavered just noticeably. "Shall we go somewhere private, then?"

"That won't be necessary."

"Very well." Ashton crossed his arms and leaned against the table. "You have my full attention."

I held everyone's attention, it seemed, as the room had fallen silent. Unfazed, I stepped closer to Ashton while the cluster of ladies stepped back into the crowd.

"Shortly after the war ended," I began, "you informed the Hylian military they would not be punished for carrying out their duties. You claimed to take them all with open arms, since they, too, are your people now. Am I wrong?"

"Not at all," he smiled. "That's what I said, and to that I hold."

"Do you?" I challenged.

"But of course, Zelda. A man is only as good as his word." He flashed another smile toward the ladies, who muffled their giggles behind their fans.

"Is that right?" I replied coldly. "Then explain to me why Captain Clepharas Bard remains a prisoner of war at Vandelle Castle."

A low murmur passed through the crowed, and the atmosphere changed as the nobles awaited Ashton's response.

"Is he now?" Ashton inquired, raising his brow. "I was never informed… I trust my council has a good reason for it."

"The reason is irrelevant," I argued. "He carried out his duties, like every other soldier you've pardoned. If you are truly a man of your word, you will send orders for his immediate release. Don't you agree, Ashton?"

He sucked in a breath through his nose, releasing it dramatically.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about it right now. I've handed over all Vandelian affairs to my council. Hyrule is my priority right now."

He glanced around the room with a smile, and I felt the tension lessen as some returned it.

"Captain Clepharas is a part of Hyrule, Ashton. And he has a family. A wife and three young children; the youngest is but an infant."

Ashton's eyes met mine, and I could see the irritation burning within them.

"They are sick with worry over him," I added, holding his gaze. "Will you not spare them such grief?"

He pursed his lips, reluctant to do as I asked. But I had sprung a trap on him. Ashton could not afford to blemish his reputation before the sympathetic court. He would bend to my wishes.

"Oh, my lord, those poor little children," Alicia mourned, lowering her fan to give him a pleading look. "Won't you send that letter to free their father?"

Her fellow ladies nodded, watching Ashton with similar expressions. He glanced at them before returning his gaze to me.

"Those poor children indeed," he murmured. "The thought of leaving them fatherless… Why, it just breaks my heart."

The ladies sighed in admiration, but I kept my face guarded, despite the wave of exasperation.

"You there," Ashton called to a nearby attendant, "Fetch some writing supplies and bring them to me. Quickly now."

The attendant bowed and hurried off as Ashton turned back toward his audience.

"It shall be done, Zelda," he smiled. "This very moment."

The ladies beamed, and some even clapped in delight.

"Oh, Lord Ashton, you are truly most gracious…"

"We are so fortunate to have you here…"

Even the lords smiled their approval. Inwardly I sighed, relieved he had finally caved. I was glad to have earned Clef his freedom, but in doing so I had also given Ashton the perfect opportunity to heighten the court's opinion of him. I had no regrets, but watching the court react to his "kindness" had left me rather nauseated.

The attendant reappeared, politely making his way through the crowd.

"Excellent," Ashton praised. "Now sit down and write for me."

The attendant did as told, quickly smoothing out a sheet of paper and uncorking the ink bottle.

"By order of his Majesty, King Ashton of Vandelius, conqueror of Hyrule," Ashton dictated, "the prisoner named…"

"Clepharas Bard," I told the attendant, "Captain of the Royal Hylian Army."

"…is to be promptly released and granted passage back Hyrule. He shall be neither harmed nor hindered," Ashton smiled and clasped his hands behind his back as he paced, "for his Majesty will personally see that these orders are carried out in a timely manner."

Knowing Ashton would do no such thing, I watched the attendant carefully finish the message. Ashton then bent over to inspect it, nodding in approval as he took the quill to sign his name. An attentive silence filled the room as Ashton stamped the official Vandelian insignia beside his signature.

"And there you are, Zelda," he said, offering me the letter. "I'll even let you send it out, just so you know this is a genuine course of action."

"We shall see," I said, rolling up the letter and slipping it into my sleeve. "I'll know it when I speak with the captain myself."

"And so you shall. But alas," he addressed the rest of the court, "it's time we all sat down for our midday meal. Won't you join me, Zelda?"

He offered me his hand, and I grew suddenly aware of the court's watchful eyes. Unfazed by their stares, I strode past Ashton, refusing his hand as I moved toward the head of the table. Quickly he moved to pull my chair back for me, pushing it in as I sat down. Then he took the seat beside me, and I averted my gaze to the servants who hurriedly set the table with a wide assortment of meats, breads, salads, and desserts.

Within moments the clatter of cutlery and the buzz of conversation had filled the hall. Alicia struck up a conversation with Ashton, and I was glad to see his attention leave me. I myself contributed very little discussion. Instead I quietly picked at my food, struggling to find my appetite as I listened to the surrounding chatter.

"Lord Ashton, is it true that you intend to marry her Majesty?" Alicia asked him.

"I do indeed. Once her three months of mourning have ended, I plan to marry her as soon as possible."

"It surprises me that her Majesty would accept your proposal, considering your past…"

"She hasn't yet. But she will… She'll come around in time."

He turned to me then, and still I refused to meet his gaze.

"I know you're hurting, Zelda," he said with feigned gentleness. "But I can help you move on. Once we're married, once you're mine, I'll show you pleasure he never could."

I reached for my wine glass, biting my tongue to keep silent. I would not give him the satisfaction.

But Ashton wasn't finished. Leaning toward my ear, he lowered his voice to a sultry whisper.

"When I'm through with you, you won't even remember his _name_."

My patience snapped, leaving me rigid for a heartbeat or two. Then, in one swift motion, I rose from my chair and whirled around to face him.

"Don't make me laugh," I hissed. "You will never be _half_ the man he was—not in any way."

Then, without thinking, I snatched my wine glass and splashed the contents in his face. Ignoring the gasps that filled the room, I turned and hurried toward the nearest exit, stunned by what I'd done. I longed for the privacy of my chambers. Memories or not, it was the only place I felt safe.

I'd nearly reached the stairway when a rough hand snatched my arm, wrenching me back. I gasped when Ashton slammed me against the wall, his green eyes narrowed with rage.

"How _dare _you make a fool of me," he seethed.

"Let me go," I muttered, fighting back tears.

"Oh, Zelda, if you think you're miserable now, think again." I winced when he grabbed my jaw, squeezing my cheeks between his thumb and fingers. "I could ruin you if I wished it."

I reached within myself, summoning my power and thrusting it outward—

He released me with a cry, jumping back and hitting the opposite wall as the magic burned through him.

I'd meant to run away, but a powerful wave of dizziness sent me straight to my knees. The room tilted as I shook my head, willing my vision to clear as I clumsily struggled to my feet—

I'd barely taken three steps before Ashton grabbed me by the hair.

"You ever do that again," he hissed into my ear, "and I will break you."

Then he shoved me away, and I nearly tripped on my skirts as I stumbled toward the stairs. Up and away I ran, distancing myself as fast as I could. He did not follow, but his laughter did, mocking my every step.

Down the corridors I flew, ignoring the concerned looks from those I passed by. Despite my lingering dizziness, I did not stop until I'd reached my chambers. Only once the doors were locked behind me did I sink to the floor. My heart pounded, my head throbbed… my entire body ached.

Slowly I opened my eyes, gazing toward the bedroom.

_Sleep_, I thought. _I need to sleep._

I climbed to my feet and dragged myself forward, aware suddenly of the tears on my face. I wiped them away with my sleeve, hearing then the crunch of the letter still inside. Quickly I pulled it out, moving to my bedside table to place it in a drawer. I planned to have it sent out later that day—by someone I trusted.

I reached up to remove my earrings—pausing when a framed pictograph caught my eye. Slowly I reached for it, my hand trembling visibly.

It had been taken years ago, during the Retribution War. Link had wanted a more recent pictograph of me to keep with him when he was away. I had insisted we both be in the pictograph, so Saria had taken it for us…

I gazed down at the image, admiring his handsome face, his crooked smile.

"_He gave his life freely, you know…"_

I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth as the grief burned in my chest.

"_He abandoned you, Zelda."_

Anger seared through me, forcing a sob from my lips…

"No…"

_He abandoned you._

"_NO!"_

With a scream I threw the pictograph across the room. It smashed into my vanity mirror, cracking the glass and landing face-down amidst the fallen shards.

"Why?" I whispered, trembling as tears streamed down my face. "Why did you do it? You knew what would happen; you _knew_…"

I sank to my knees, releasing another choked sob.

"I can't live like this," I whimpered. "I can't…"

Uncontrollably I wept, my body shaking with each short, uneven breath. I felt I would drown in my own tears if I did not release them.

Then suddenly I gasped, pressing a hand to my abdomen as a sharp pain momentarily stopped my tears.

Then another came, even sharper that time. I cried out—partly from shock—and groped for the bed post. The pain lingered as I pulled myself to my feet and staggered toward the bathroom.

"What is this?" I whispered, clutching the doorframe for support.

Then I felt it—a strange warmth running slowly down my legs. Panicking, I snatched my skirts and looked down, too scared to breathe…

My screams filled the chambers the second I saw red.


	13. Chapter XIII

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XIII

"_It's true then? Her Majesty has miscarried?"_

"_You mean she was with child?"_

"_Just like her mother. That bloodline must be cursed."_

"_Nonsense. It's like Lord Ashton said—she should never have married the general…"_

I woke to the silence of my chambers. The curtains had been drawn, giving way to the gentle morning light. I knew they had been opened for me, in the hopes that some light would help lift my spirits. But nothing could lift my spirits, not when my heart lay in pieces.

I had lost my child… one I never knew I'd conceived.

The realization overwhelmed me—even now, days later. I had only begun to sort out the barbed, tangled mess that inhabited my mind.

"_If there's any good we can draw from this tragedy,"_ Maddox had told me, "_it's the knowledge that you can bear children. You are not barren as you feared."_

This brought me little solace. What did it matter anymore? I had lost my husband, my love. I would never lie with another. Never.

A part of me barely believed it had happened. That I had carried his child inside me, if only for a short time…amazed me. But that awe could not survive my grief. Knowing I had failed to keep our child alive devastated me.

Again and again I recalled the words he had spoken our last night together. So clearly I remembered the longing in his face, the ache in his voice…

"_I so wish I could give you a child…"_

And he had. He had given me the most beautiful gift imaginable. Not only that, but he had freed me from the obligation of a second marriage to produce an heir.

And I had failed him.

The weight of my loss was unbearable; my guilt and regret consumed me. I'd been given the chance to keep a part of Link with me, for the rest of my life, and now it was gone. Forever.

Some nobles had deemed me cursed. Others believed Link had tainted my line with his common blood. I had no strength to fight them. I knew nothing but pain—even Ashton's apparent glee could not rekindle my inner fire.

The thought of leaving my chambers sickened me; I could barely rise out of bed. Day after day I'd lain there, drifting in and out of restless slumber. I'd lost all track of time. Sometimes it felt as though mere hours had passed; other times it felt like weeks.

Still I had not forgotten my promise to Siena. I was numb with sorrow but not incapable of finishing what I had started.

I had given Maddox the letter regarding Clef's release, ordering that he deliver it to Sir Ian—only Sir Ian. I trusted no other to ensure it reached Vandelle Castle. Later I learned that Ian had embarked for Vandelius himself, taking with him Lieutenants Theodus and Aiden—men who remained loyal to me and to Link's memory. Clef would soon return with them; of that I was certain.

I could not remain bedridden forever. I was not the first woman to lose her husband—or her child. I had a life to finish, duties to fulfill, people to serve and protect. From that day hence, I planned to reestablish my sole devotion to Hyrule. It would be a lonely existence, one I wasn't sure I would endure for very long. But as long as I still drew breath, I had to try.

Thus I had devised a series of steps I would take to lift myself out of my debilitating melancholy. These steps led not to healing—I could never truly heal—but to survival.

The sound of my bedroom door opening drew my attention from the window, and I turned to see Heather, fiancée of the deserter, Adam Carlen, slip inside. Recently she had become my personal maid—the only maid who attended to me. I'd been unable to stand how the others fluttered about, pressing me with questions and condolences like frantic birds. I had dismissed them all, forbidding them to enter my bedroom. But Heather had returned, unaccompanied. Hesitantly she had approached my side, her hazel eyes brimming with sadness. She had taken my hand and knelt at my bedside, struggling to speak through her tears.

"_Please, your Majesty, I cannot rest knowing you suffer alone like this,"_ she had said._ "Please let me care for you… at least until Mistress Impa returns to you."_

Her genuine compassion had moved me, even through the consumption of my grief, and I had granted her request. She had faithfully looked after me since, providing comfort in whatever way she could.

"Good morning, my Lady," she said as she approached my bedside. "I hope the light doesn't bother you; I thought it might help some…"

"It doesn't bother me," I said quietly. "Thank you for being considerate."

She smiled, a hint of relief in her face. "Can I bring you anything? Perhaps some breakfast?" I hadn't eaten breakfast in days, but she still asked me every morning, and always with a hopeful tone.

"Come closer, Heather." Weakly I extended my hand toward her. She clasped it in her own as her young face grew concerned.

"I need you to do me a personal favor," I said softly, holding her gaze.

"Anything, my Lady."

I swallowed, pained by the decision I had made. But it needed to be done, if I had any hope of moving on.

"I need you to gather my husband's belongings—all of his belongings—and remove them from my chambers."

Her expression betrayed her shock.

"Everything?"

I nodded. "His tools, his treasures, even his clothes. This is only temporary, Heather. They are to be stored in Mistress Impa's chambers. I will take most of them back when I am strong enough to see them without falling apart."

Her face softened as she gently squeezed my hand. "I understand, my Lady. Shall I begin now?"

"Please do. You can start with his bureau—just empty the drawers entirely."

She did as I asked, working slowly and carefully. Whenever her arms were full she carried everything into the sitting room, out of sight.

"There is a lovely little instrument here, my lady," she said when she opened another drawer. "Did this belong to him?"

My heart lurched when I saw Link's old ocarina in her hands. It was simple and small, but still lovely as she had observed. Made of light brown ceramic, it featured only a small green stone near the mouthpiece. It had belonged to Saria, the Kokiri girl who more or less raised Link. She had given it to him when he was only ten years old, and he had treasured it ever since.

"Yes," I whispered. "Take it away."

When she had finished with Link's bureau, I directed her toward my own.

"The box there in the top drawer," I told her, struggling to keep my voice steady. "That must also go."

She did as I asked and silently removed the wooden box containing letters Link had sent me during the war. From there she cleared out all of his clothing, his weapons, his keepsakes, and finally the pictographs. Even his sword, Valéshar, had been removed from its holder near the bed.

It was done—I had stripped the room of every physical thing that reminded me of him. I knew I could never strip him away entirely. His memory lived on in the familiarity of it all. The furniture, the balcony, the bed… His absence would haunt me to my last breath. Of course I had the option of occupying a different room in the castle, but I couldn't do it. As long as his presence lingered within the walls of our chambers, so would I.

**xxxxxxx**

I sat on the window seat of the grand bay window in my sitting room, gazing down into the ripening gardens below. My thoughts were not of the flowers, however. Rather, I contemplated the last and the most crucial step of my plan—Ashton's removal.

The road ahead would be difficult enough without Ashton forcing additional misery upon me. I would sooner die than become his wife, but as things currently stood, marrying him was the only way I could keep my role as Queen. I could not simply refuse him and abandon my people. Ashton had conquered me through force of arms, power I no longer had. I needed another way… I needed outside help.

_Link was always the one… _It was frightening how helpless I felt without him. His primary concern had always been my safety, my well-being, and I was beginning to think he'd been perhaps _too _good at it…

_Nonsense_. _That's your heart talking, not your head._

Nevertheless, I had precious little time to gather my allies—my _real_ allies. Ashton would most likely schedule a wedding the very moment I completed my three month's mourning.

A timid knock at the door drew my attention.

"It's Heather, your Majesty. Lady Siena is with me—she was hoping you would see her."

"Of course," I called to her, rising from my chair as my spirits lifted—if only a little. "Please, come in."

A week had passed since my…incident, and I hadn't seen Siena in a fortnight. I knew why she had come.

She rushed past Heather the moment the doors opened and pulled me into a warm embrace—gentler than usual.

"Oh, Zelda," she whispered. "Zelda…"

I returned her embrace, feeling my spirits lower a bit. Revisiting the pain of my miscarriage with Siena was the last thing I needed. I wasn't ready to talk about it, not with anyone.

"Please, Siena," I murmured, pulling away to meet her sympathetic eyes. "It's all right. I'm all right."

"You can't fool me, Zelda," she said softly. "Don't try to."

I sighed and turned my attention to Heather, who was waiting by the door for her orders.

"Heather, fetch us some tea; would you please? And some sandwiches as well."

She curtsied and left while Siena and I settled at the small dining table.

"I came as soon as I heard," she told me. "I would have come sooner, but I was away in Kakariko." She studied me closely, sorrow etched into her pretty features. "Zelda, did you even know you were…?"

"No," I cut her off, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle in my black gown. "I mean, the thought had crossed my mind, but…" I trailed off as the shame and regret came creeping back, forming a lump in my throat. "I didn't think it would ever happen."

"Oh, Zelda," she murmured, reaching over to touch my hand. "I wish I could help you somehow… I can only imagine the pain you're going through."

I found myself bristling at her words. _That's right, _my inner, darker voice hissed. _You can only imagine. You have three children to go home to, after all, and a husband on his way back to you._

I pushed my jealousy away, ashamed that I could harbor such thoughts toward Siena.

"Zelda?" My face must have betrayed my struggle, since Siena appeared even more concerned.

"What were you doing in Kakariko?" I quickly asked, forcing some lightness into my tone.

She hesitated, seeing right through me, but thankfully chose to humor me.

"I brought the children there to stay with their aunt a while. It's just isn't safe for them at the inn anymore, not without Clef, at least…"

"Speaking of Clef," a more genuine sound filled my voice, "I've been meaning to tell you—I had Ashton sign orders for his immediate release."

Siena's entire demeanor brightened like a torch catching fire. "Oh, Zelda…"

"The orders have been delivered to Vandelle Castle by Sir Ian and his selected group of trusted men," I added. "Clef should come home very soon."

"Zelda," she breathed, pressing a hand to her heart as tears shone in her eyes. "Zelda, how can I ever thank you?"

"You needn't," I smiled gently. "Invite me to the Phoenix sometime, after Clef clears out all the Vandelians. How bad is it there, by the way?"

She sighed and shook her head. "We've lost so much business, Zelda. The place is full almost every night, but by fewer and fewer Hylians. Those Vandelians think they've got the run of the place. Most of the time they demand food and ale without paying a single rupee. We've lost half our staff too. We're overworked and underpaid. I've tried to stand up to them, but they…" She trailed off, rubbing her arm with a troubled expression. "Well, the worst they've ever done is threaten my children. That's why they're with their Aunt Cleia now. I wanted to stay with them so badly, but I couldn't leave Jared to run the Phoenix on his own."

"I'm so sorry, Siena," I murmured, touching her hand.

She shook her head. "Zelda, please, I feel silly telling my story of woe, after everything you've been through—"

"No, Siena," I interrupted, waving my hand dismissively. "Don't degrade your troubles like that. In fact I'd much prefer to avoid focusing on myself. I know you came here to comfort me, and I appreciate that, but I'm… I'm not ready to talk about it. Can you understand that?"

She grasped my hand, squeezing it gently.

"Yes," she said gently. "But when you are ready, I want you to know I'm here for you."

I swallowed and nodded. "Thank you."

"And I want you to acknowledge this is _not_ your fault."

I pulled my hand away."

"That I cannot do."

"Zelda—"

"Please, Siena, don't. It's no use. Just… let me overcome this my own way."

She studied me with a troubled look on her face, and for a moment I thought she would argue further. Then finally she sat back with a sigh.

"Is there anything I can do for you, then?" she asked me sadly. "Anything at all?"

"You can tell me more about you. Distract me, Siena."

"If that's what you want," she sighed. "Actually, I do have a more positive story to share with you. I think it just might lift your spirits a bit."

"Really?" I replied, trying to match her lighter mood. "Well, then I'm all ears."

She leaned closer then, glancing around the room as though checking for eavesdroppers.

"I do believe," she murmured, "that I have an ally of sorts."

I raised my brow.

"An ally?"

"Yes," she smiled thoughtfully. "A mysterious man has begun visiting the Phoenix—Jared claims he first appeared a couple days before I returned from Kakariko. I've only seen him once myself—last night, actually—but what a scene that was."

The door opened to reveal Heather carrying a tray of sandwiches. Another maid followed behind her, carrying the tea tray. Siena and I fell silent as they quickly set the table for us.

"Is there anything else you require, your Majesty?" Heather asked in a more formal tone than usual.

"No, thank you, Heather. You may do as you please until dinner is served."

"Thank you, your Majesty," she smiled, dropping another curtsy. I knew she was glad to see me with company.

When she and the other maid had gone, I turned back to Siena, eager to hear more of her story.

"Now tell me more about this mysterious visitor," I urged her.

She sighed and reached for the teapot, pouring us both a steaming cup.

"One of the Vandelians got a little too 'friendly' with one of my waitresses," she said grimly. "She had politely refused him, but the man was drunk—on both power and ale. He assaulted her right then and there. Jared and I tried to help her, but his Vandelian buddies kept cheering him on… It was horrible, and it all happened so fast. The poor girl was terrified."

"What happened?" I gasped.

"The man I mentioned—he was sitting in the back corner when this all took place—he just interrupted the whole thing, and you wouldn't believe how." She chuckled at the memory. "He threw his tankard at one of the Vandelian's heads."

My jaw dropped, and I nearly laughed aloud. "At his _head_?"

"Yes. Pretty smart too—far more effective than our shouting, at least."

"But didn't they all… attack him?" I stammered.

Siena laughed. "That's the best part," she grinned. "He was already headed for the hallway when they looked up. They all followed him there, but he knew what he was doing. The hallway's narrow, so they had to approach him one or two at a time. And gradually he just took them all out, using nothing but his own two hands."

"Amazing," I murmured, feeling a chill run down my spine. "And who is this man?"

"I've no idea," she said with a shrug. "I never saw his face—his hood never came down."

"He didn't say anything to you?"

"Oh yes," she nodded. "When the fight was over, he stepped over the bodies and came up to the bar, where Jared and I had watched the whole thing—the poor girl had already run off. He just laid a pile of rupees on the counter and said, 'Sorry about the mess; you can keep the change.'"

"You mean he just paid for his meal?"

"Yes, can you believe it?" she laughed. "I tried to give it back, to express our gratitude and everything, but he wouldn't take it. He just pushed my hand away and said 'Let a man pay for his meal.'"

"He never gave a name or anything?"

"Nothing."

"And you never saw his face."

"Never."

"Did you recognize his voice?"

"No…it was a deeper voice, and he spoke very quietly."

"Hm."

"Whoever he is, I hope he sticks around a while," Siena murmured, lifting her teacup to her lips. "At least until Clef returns." She eyed me then, noticing the way I busied myself with a sandwich.

"I see you're wearing black now," she observed. "Did they threaten you?"

She'd meant it as a joke, but I lacked the energy to play along.

"No," I replied, avoiding her gaze as I fingered my teacup. "I chose this myself. I am mourning, after all."

I could feel our previous mirth beginning to evaporate from the room.

"That feeling you told me about the last time we met," she said slowly. "The way you could sense Link… You can still feel that…can't you?"

And there it was—the stab of reality. Just those few words shattered the comfort I'd drawn in Siena and her story.

Still I hesitated, not wanting to sadden her. Knowing Link was dead would most likely drive her to tears, and I didn't think I could bear it.

"I'm not sure what I feel anymore," I mumbled, staring into my teacup.

I looked up when she reached for my hands.

"Don't despair, Zelda," she urged. "You've always been so faithful. Don't let Ashton bring you down."

Anger boiled within me, and again I found myself fighting the urge to snap at her.

"His absence is killing me, Siena. I would give anything to stop… anguishing over him like this."

"Honey, that's the risk we all take when we love…"

"Then I wish I had never loved him." The words escaped in a fierce whisper, yet only part of me felt the burn of shame.

Siena pulled away, clearly startled.

"Zelda, you don't mean that…"

"Part of me does. And don't you dare feed me that 'better to have loved and lost' nonsense. It's nothing but a lie."

"I wasn't going to," she murmured, studying me sadly. "Honey… you're starting to sound as though you really believe he's gone…"

My silence was all the answer she needed.

"Well, I have to believe he's still alive out there," she said firmly, though her voice trembled. "There's no proof, Zelda, no body. Until there is, I won't give up hope."

I fell silent a moment, longing for that same luxury. She didn't know what I knew; she didn't feel the gnawing emptiness of our broken telepathic bond.

"It isn't enough for me," I said quietly. "Not anymore."

"Then I'll keep enough hope for the both of us," she replied. I knew she was disappointed in me, but I couldn't will myself to care.

"Whatever helps you," I mumbled, lifting my teacup.

Siena watched me a moment, her face softening. "Everything will be okay, Zelda," she said, rubbing my arm gently. "That I can promise you. Things have a way of working themselves out in the end."

Silently I sipped my tea, tasting its bitterness and wishing I could share in her faith. At this point, I could invest my efforts into only one goal—Ashton's removal. I was grateful to have an objective, and I would stop at nothing to see it done.

**xxxxxxx**

As my strength began to return, I increased my efforts to remain active. I was not yet ready to attend court on a regular basis, but I no longer hid in my chambers. People could reach me if they wished it. Lord Kinsley and Lady Renae had spoken with me on a few occasions—mostly to discuss Ashton's increasing charisma among the nobles. I appreciated their visits; it was good to know Ashton hadn't stolen the loyalty of my entire council. Their complaints concerned me, but I had already decided to remove him; his rising popularity made little difference.

I tried to spend as much time as possible outdoors. Ashton had given me permission to go riding—under Vandelian supervision, of course—and I rode Epona as well as Clover. It pained me just to look at Link's mare, but the poor thing needed the attention, and she wouldn't allow anyone else on her back. I had considered returning Epona to her original owners at Lon Lon Ranch but found myself unable to follow through.

I also practiced archery. It was something I had always enjoyed—it helped clear my head, and I'd experienced enough to know archery was a valuable skill to keep. I had found it difficult to pick up the bow again, since archery had been something Link and I always enjoyed together. But I had detached myself from the pain and prevailed over the memory.

I stood there now, fingering the feathers of my arrow as I studied the red target. Inhaling deeply, I slowly raised the bow and nocked it…

"Good ol' Shade," I heard a man's voice nearby. "I'd buy 'im a drink, I would."

_Shade…_

I lowered my bow and turned toward the voice, immediately intrigued. I'd been hearing the name quite often lately. The servants often spoke of him in hushed whispers.

"_He seems to show up wherever there's trouble at night…like some kind of watchman…"_

"_He just appears, as though he materialized out of the shadows, and then he vanishes the same way…_

"_He's like a phantom, really. It's why they call him Shade…"_

But he wasn't a phantom; he was a man. I had heard enough to realize it had been Shade who fought the Vandelians at Siena's inn that night. He was a friend to the common people—to all Hylians struggling to live under Vandelian rule. In fact, this mysterious Shade had stirred up so much trouble within the past week that Ashton had even ordered his arrest. But he was a slippery fellow, appearing only at night, and it was difficult to arrest a faceless man.

Shade hadn't caught just Ashton's attention. At first he had been a mere comfort to me—it was satisfying to know someone out there still kept a rebellious spirit. Then, as I began to realize just how much the people appreciated him, I began to wonder if he could help me in some way.

At first I had dismissed the thought. I had no idea who this man was; he could simply enjoy causing trouble for all I knew. Perhaps this Shade wasn't even one man but several, all working under the same alias. Whoever he was, I wanted to know more. I wanted to speak with him myself. But such a meeting was impossible, as I had no idea where to find the man.

"You'd buy 'im a drink when you've barely got enough rupees for yerself?" another voice laughed. "He'd pro'bly end up buyin' _you_ a drink!"

Their laughter drifted toward me, and quickly I ducked behind some bushes, eager to hear more.

"You ain't ever seen 'im, have you?" the first voice asked.

"Naw, naw, I ain't ever seen 'im. But they say he's always lurkin' about in the Eas'ide Alleys."

The second man whistled.

"The wors' area in Castletown," he said as they passed my hiding place. "Makes sense, I s'pose. Better there than here, a'least."

Their laughter faded as they strolled out of earshot, and slowly I rose to my feet, deep in thought.

_The East-Side Alleys. Of course._

It was indeed the worst area in Castletown—the perfect place for a wanted man to hide.

Furrowing my brow, I looked up toward the north tower, where Ashton currently roomed in my father's old chambers. I took only a moment to reach my decision.

It was time I sought out this mysterious Shade.

**xxxxxxx**

Night had fallen, and a brilliant full moon illuminated the dark, cloudy sky. I sat on the edge of my bed, dressed in dark, simple clothes and a black cloak. In my hands lay the most precious heirloom of the Hylian royal family—the Ocarina of Time.

I gazed down at the instrument, admiring its rich blue color as I traced the small golden Triforce embedded near the mouthpiece. Just looking upon it brought back countless memories… memories of a time long forgotten. But I would never forget.

I would never forget the times I had, under my Sheikan guise, taught Link the six ancient melodies that had aided him during his fateful quest to end Ganondorf's tyranny. I remembered how quickly he had learned them… how his notes had joined so perfectly with the strumming of my harp. The harmonious sounds still echoed in my ears, even though fourteen long years had passed.

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and brought the ocarina to my lips. Softly I played the familiar, light-hearted notes of the "Prelude of Light," a song that would teleport me to the Temple of Time, located in the heart of Castletown. Gently its magic enveloped me, creating a warm, tingling sensation, and I couldn't help but smile at the familiarity of it. Then, with a flash of golden light, I vanished from my chambers.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing within the enormous and dimly lit walls of the Temple of Time. Silent as a tomb; I heard only the soft crackling of torches lining the walls. The muted _click_ of my footsteps echoed as I walked deeper into the temple, toward the Altar of Time. There I paused, taking a moment to admire its design. I ran my fingers over its smooth black surface, sadly tracing the familiar inscription there before sinking to my knees in prayer.

_Please, guide me to the one called Shade. That is all I ask._

Then, rising to my feet, I bowed in respect and turned away, pulling my hood up as I approached the temple's double doors.

Cool, refreshing spring air filled my nose as I descended the temple's worn stairs. It lifted my spirits enough to quicken my step. My heart raced with anticipation; it felt so good to _do_something for a change, to act upon a solid ambition.

I avoided crossing through the town square—the night watchmen covered almost every alleyway and would surely stop me for interrogation. Instead I migrated toward the eastern side of Castletown via the rooftops, making my way toward the deeper, unguarded East-Side Alleys.

Nearing the darker side of Castletown made an unsettling experience. The town changed so drastically. The charming homes had vanished, replaced with dilapidated buildings—most of them seemingly abandoned. This was home to Hyrule's criminals; those who frequented the shabby bars here came for more than a drink.

In the past, measures had been taken to improve the conditions of the East-Side Alleys, but the place had a way of resisting change. Worse, imposing that change only forced crime into another section of Castletown, somewhere beyond control. Political interference seemed to do more harm than good in the end, particularly for many of the East-Side residents. I likened the East-Side Alleys to a disease, and I had yet to discover a cure.

I moved from rooftop to rooftop, observing each alley as I went. I didn't know how I expected to find him, but something pushed me in that particular direction. I prayed it wasn't simply my imagination.

When I reached a gap too large to jump, I carefully made my way down toward the ground. I found no shortage of nooks or ledges to grab hold of, but I feared I wasn't the only person taking advantage of them. So, taking extra care to remain hidden in the shadows, I slipped from building to building, searching for any sort of lead.

_This is madness, _my inner voice chided. _For all you know, this Shade could own a comfortable apartment on the northwest side. Perhaps he masquerades as a rogue some nights for the sheer thrill of it._

Trying not to consider my steadily waning chances of success, I determinedly pressed on, thinking I might even try entering one of the bars—

A rustling sound behind me drew my attention. Quickly I ducked out of sight, glancing around while my heart pounded against my ribs. Then I heard it—feet hitting the ground.

_Was I followed this entire time…?_

I couldn't just stand there, so cautiously I left my hiding place and pressed on…

Another shuffle.

Then another.

I quickened my pace, swallowing my panic. There were more than one—that much I knew—and they were closing in on me. Fast.

"'Ey! Over here!"

"There! Get 'em!"

The voices came from directly behind me, and in a flash I drew the throwing knives from my belt—I had not come unprepared. I heard a cry as I whirled around, just in time to see a body fall to the ground—and a figure slip into the shadows. Someone had attacked just seconds before me.

_An ally?_

_Could it be…?_

I had just moved to pursue him when a hand snatched my arm and threw me to the ground.

"Gotcha." The stench of alcohol rolled over my face as my captor dropped me a nasty grin. "Now let's 'ave a closer look at'cha…"

I struggled as he forced off my hood, cursing myself for dropping my guard.

"Bloody hell…" Shock lined his face as he took in my appearance. "'Ey, fellas!" he turned to shout to his fellow cronies. "I got me a woman here! An' she's one helluva beauty—"

His grip had loosened slightly in his excitement, and I seized the opportunity, slamming my elbow right into his face. He fell back with a howl while I took off running—blindly. I nearly tripped over some trash before ducking out of sight behind some rubble.

For a moment I considered summoning my magic, but I didn't want to give myself away. I could handle them without it, as long as I avoided further distraction…

A movement caught my peripheral eye, and I glanced upward, spying another dark figure scaling the side of a building. I watched him a moment, noting how stealthily he moved before vanishing into the shadows again. A muted thump sounded, followed by a strangled cry as another body fell to the ground, half exposed in the moonlight.

_It has to be him. He doesn't move like the others…_

Hurriedly I stood, heading in the direction I thought—hoped—he'd gone. My heart rose when I saw him dash through another patch of moonlight.

"Wait," I whispered without thinking. "Wait!"

He stopped dead and turned—just as something heavy collided with the side of my head. Blackness spotted my swerving vision, and the next thing I knew I'd hit the ground.

Dazedly I looked up to see a cloaked figure sprinting toward me, sword agleam, before everything went black.


	14. Chapter XIV

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XIV

As I drifted back toward consciousness, I heard only silence.

Slowly I grew aware of a throbbing pain in my head, then the gentle touch of something cool and damp. I murmured, struggling to open my eyes. Then the soothing touch left, and I vaguely caught the sound of footsteps. At last I opened my eyes.

I lay in a small bed, staring up at a cobwebbed stone ceiling. Two weak lanterns provided light, one near my bedside and the other across what appeared to be a tiny, single room house. The far lantern sat on a small table, illuminating a variety of things I didn't bother to make out. All I saw was a cloaked figure. He stood so I caught him in profile, wringing a clean cloth into a bowl. I could not see his face; he had yet to lower his hood.

I tried to speak but managed only a small croak, since my throat felt dry as sand. The man seemed to understand, as he reached for a bottle and silently returned to my bedside. Lowering himself onto a stool, he gently supported my head and held the bottle to my lips. Gratefully I drank, too parched to bother with caution.

When I had taken all I wanted, the man lowered my head back onto the pillow and abruptly pulled away, as though touching me had brought him discomfort. Had I imagined the trembling of his hands? His actions confused me, though I struggled to clear the lingering fog in my head.

"You're the one called Shade," I spoke. "Are you not?

I watched him reach for the medicine bowl before returning my bedside.

"…Yes," he answered softly, wringing the cloth into the bowl.

I tried to sit up, despite the throb of pain it brought, and quickly he forced me back down.

"Lie still," he said. "Please."

I did as he asked, awkwardly resting against the pillow. Gently he pressed the cloth to my wound, and I winced when it burned more than I'd expected. My eyes studied his shadowed face, narrowing as I tried to make out his features. The dim light exposed only his jaw line, which was smooth, handsome even.

_He seems younger than I imagined._

"Do you know who I am?" I asked him quietly. It seemed a foolish question, but I knew from experience that most common people did not recognize me without fine clothes and jewels.

He hesitated. "You are her Majesty, the queen."

"Yes," I replied, impressed with both his keenness and his politeness. "I've heard a great deal about you, Shade. The people of Castletown find you quite remarkable."

I listened as he wrung the cloth into the bowl, but he said nothing.

"I came here to find you," I added. "I…hoped you could be of help to me—to my cause."

Shade dabbed my wound a final time, carefully cleaning away any dirt and dried blood.

"You could find no one better suited?" he murmured.

My face heated as I suddenly realized how presumptuous—not to mention desperate—I appeared. I _was_ desperate, but I preferred Shade did not see it.

"I…I could use an outside ally," I told him, struggling to sound confident. "Beyond the castle walls."

He fell silent again, placing the cloth back into the medicine bowl, and I feared I had presented myself improperly.

_He carried you here and treated a head injury some amateur street criminal gave you. I'd say presentation is a lost cause._

Before I could attempt to redeem myself, Shade took my hand in both of his.

"You need only ask," he said softly, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

Gently I pulled my hand away, not wanting to be touched like that. He had meant it respectfully, and it was not uncommon to kiss the queen's hand, but the intimacy made me uncomfortable.

"Thank you," I murmured. "Your service will not go unrewarded."

Then slowly I sat up, flustered by the man's proximity. I could feel his eyes on me, watching my every move.

"Your husband," he said suddenly. "He has caused you much grief."

My heart gave a painful lurch, and I threw him a sharp look. He spoke with hushed compassion, but I took offense nonetheless.

"That is irrelevant," I said coldly. "And none of your business."

"You're angry with him," he replied sadly, his voice softening all the more. "As you should be. You must hate him for what he's done to you."

I stared at him, too stunned to react.

"How dare you?"

The words escaped in a rush of feeling, though barely more than a whisper. Quickly I swung my legs off the bed and rose to my feet, ignoring my dizziness as I turned to face him.

"How dare you speak of him that way?" I snapped. "You can't begin to know the pain I feel for him, but I could never, ever hate him. He was my husband—and your prince. Whether in life or death you _will_ respect him."

I stood there, shaking as I struggled to control my slipping composure. Shade stared at me, and in the weak candlelight I nearly glimpsed his face before he lowered his head. The way he sat there, hands gripping his knees, head bowed… He appeared almost emotional.

"Who are you?" I demanded, not bothering to soften my voice. I'd grown tired of his puzzling demeanor. "Enough of your secrecy; show me your face."

Slowly he rose to his feet, and I had to tip my chin up to properly meet his gaze. My heart pounded as I waited, certain he would refuse me. But before either of us could say another word, a soft golden light began emitting from his left hand.

_What…?_

My heart leapt to my throat, and slowly I raised my right hand, seeing there the familiar glow of the Triforce of Wisdom. Across the room Shade did the same with his hand, though his attention quickly returned to me. A faint hum filled the silence, emanating from our companion Triforce pieces as they responded to each other.

I stood frozen in place, paralyzed with disbelief. _Impossible…_ Only one man, the true Keeper, could bear the Triforce of Courage.

_It cannot be…_

Shade lowered his hand and moved toward me, closing the gap between us. Tearfully I looked up into his hood, gasping when he took my face in his hands.

"Your wretched husband is alive," he whispered. "He is with you now."

Slowly, without daring to breathe, I lifted my trembling hands toward his hood. My heart threatened to burst as I pushed back the dark material, exposing him to the light…

And there he was—tired and disheveled, but very much alive. I stared as though entranced, drinking in the sight of him. His unkempt hair fell loosely about his face and shoulders, catching the candlelight and creating a soft glow about him. And his eyes, his beautiful, azure blue eyes gazed sorrowfully into mine.

_Link…_

I touched his face, gently tracing his handsome features. Without the bond, he seemed but a phantom to me, familiar only in appearance. Our telepathic bond had yet to return, and I struggled to recognize him without it. I half expected him to fade away, or to wake and find it was all a dream…

"I know," he murmured, stroking my face. "I know this is hard to believe, but I am here. I'm here, Zelda."

His voice caressed my ears like music, and I closed my eyes, reveling in the touch of his hand on my cheek. Only after opening them did I finally register what my senses told me.

"Link—"

I'd barely choked out his name when he covered my mouth with his, kissing me desperately. I whimpered, reaching up around his neck as he pulled me flush against him. Joyful ecstasy consumed me, burning away my grief. We kissed again and again, quenching a thirst we had both endured for too long.

Finally I broke away with a gasp, weakly clinging to him as I shook with sobs. Quickly Link slipped an arm under my knees and lifted me up, carrying me back to the bed. He lay me down, pausing to cast off his cloak before joining me on the mattress. There we sat against the wall, tightly wrapped in each other's arms.

"I thought I'd lost you," I choked against his throat. "I really thought..."

Link kissed my forehead. "I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you," he whispered, stroking the back of my head. "I would have given anything just to reach you, but until now it's been impossible…"

I shifted, taking his face in my hands and kissing him tenderly. The anger I'd harbored toward him was all but forgotten, dashed aside by the tortured look in his eyes. All I wanted was to kiss him, to touch him, to reinforce what I saw before me. Without the bond, I had only physical contact to convince myself he was real.

"What happened to you?" I breathed, gazing up into his tired face. "Our bond, it's—"

"I know," he murmured. "I…I can't explain it. I'm sorry."

I touched his face, stroking his hair out of his eyes. The countless dreams I'd seen came rushing back, replaying the scenes of torture I knew he'd endured.

"Tell me what he did to you," I whispered. "Tell me everything."

"He…?"

I furrowed my brow. "Your captor. The one I saw torturing you." My voice broke as angry tears stung my eyes.

"Of course," he whispered, lowering his gaze. "Your visions. I had hoped to spare you all that."

Instinctively I grabbed his wrist. "You meant—" I stopped midsentence, holding my breath as I brought his hand closer to my face. There, in the dim candlelight, I saw a terrible scar stretching across the underside of his wrist. It began on one side and curved outward, growing thicker in the center before fading on the opposite side. Instantly an image of him thrashing against his chains flashed in my mind. _From his shackles…_

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I bowed my head and tenderly kissed his wrist.

"You meant to keep this from me?" I whispered.

"It would only hurt you," he whispered back. "And I've caused you enough pain."

I studied him a moment, then shook my head. Silently I reached for his other wrist, pressing a kiss to his identical scar before lifting my eyes to his.

"After all we've been through," I said softly, "when will you understand that your pain is my pain?"

He held my gaze, tears glistening in his eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered.

I leaned closer, reaching for his cheek. "Not knowing what you've been through hurts me more. Don't shut me out, Link. _Please_."

He hesitated, then bowed his head with a slow, heavy sigh.

"He kept me in a cell." Link spoke so softly I could barely understand him. "There were ReDeads nearby… in other cells. I could always hear them."

He leaned back against the wall, his eyes going distant.

"At first he used typical methods—starvation, dehydration, pain… He kept me awake too, using some kind of drug or spell. He pushed me to the brink of madness…" Link paused a moment, drawing a shaky breath.

"He tortured you with dark magic…" I whispered.

Link nodded. "He often took me into another room…chained me to an altar of some kind. He tried to break me, make me a slave to his will. For a while I was able to resist… until he found a more… effective way to hurt me."

I reached for his hand, stroking my thumb over his knuckles. "Your memories…"

"He had extraordinary telepathic abilities," Link murmured. "He could sense you through me, and that terrified me, so I blocked you out…" He closed his eyes and shook his head. "But that was precisely what he wanted."

A chill swept through me as I recalled my visions.

"…_something is protecting him…something I don't yet understand…"_

"I was your protection," I whispered. "He couldn't tamper with your memories if…"

"You always restored them," Link finished. "Yes. I didn't realize that at the time, of course. I was…delirious by that point. He somehow sealed my barrier, which cut me off from you. I could still sense you, but we couldn't communicate."

"Then he began altering your memories," I murmured, stroking his cheek.

"Yes." Link sighed and pressed his hand to mine, holding it against his cheek. "And I began losing touch with reality."

Again I recalled my visions, the words Link's captor had spoken.

"_You abandoned her…and she suffers to this day."_

"He made you believe I married Ashton," I whispered.

Link nodded, lowering his gaze. "He planted images in my head…visions of you. Things that never happened…"

He pulled closer then, burying his face against my shoulder.

"He made me believe I'd abandoned you to a life of misery. And you… Zelda, I—I don't know how he did it, but I felt you slip away…"

"I know," I murmured, running my hand through his hair. "I felt it too."

"I really believed I'd lost you," Link whispered, tightening his hold on me. "I despaired… I—I gave in…"

"Shh," I soothed. "You're here now; that's all that matters."

We held each other a moment, absorbing the truth of my words. I took a moment to review my visions, making sure Link had not purposely omitted something…

_The dagger._

"He cut you," I whispered. "With that strange dagger… It had a black blade."

Link pulled away, studying me with a look I knew to be fear.

"You…you saw that?" he whispered. "You saw how I escaped?"

I shook my head. "The vision faded before I saw anything more. All I know is he cut you." Gently I pressed my hand to his chest. "Right across your heart. Link, I thought he'd killed you…"

He pulled my hand away and held it, slipping back into his memories.

"I escaped," he murmured. "I escaped before he could kill me. I can't explain how…I have no memory of it."

I cupped his cheek, bringing him out of his trance. "What do you remember?"

He lowered his gaze, thinking. "I remember…waking in the Fortress."

"The Gerudo Fortress?"

He nodded. "I recovered there…slowly."

"And Nabooru did not think to send word to me?" Anger seeped into my voice as I imagined the weeks of pain she could have spared us.

"Darling, it was impossible," Link soothed. "She tried to reach you even before I was found, but Castletown is tightly guarded; none but Hylians or Vandelians are allowed inside. And no one is granted entrance to the castle grounds—not without proper identification."

I lowered my gaze, feeling a twinge of shame.

"Of course," I said quietly. "I know Ashton has tightened security; I—I wasn't thinking when I said that."

Link stroked my cheek, tenderly kissing the corner of my mouth.

"I left as soon as I was strong enough," he told me. "I headed straight for Castletown—and I entered without much trouble. The Vandelians didn't recognize me, and I hadn't exactly regained my good health." A wry smile tugged at his lips. "They probably took me for a drunk."

Gently I returned his smile. "The Prince of Hyrule slipped right past their nets," I murmured, kissing him softly.

Link returned it, tracing my jaw with his fingertips. Then he paused, sorrow filling his features.

"I nearly ran straight into their nets," he whispered, "…when I heard what happened to you."

I froze. A terrible wave crashed through me, unearthing the shame and guilt I'd tried so hard to bury. I pulled away, unable to meet his gaze. I could not bear it.

"Zelda," he whispered, cradling my face in his hands. "Sweetheart, look at me…"

I raised my eyes, only to shrink away. His pained expression tore into my already wounded heart, and helplessly I succumbed to more tears.

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed, barely able to form the words. "So sorry…"

"Zelda, no," Link breathed. "You think I could blame you? If you knew how much I ached to be with you… to be there for you…"

"It was such a shock," I choked. "I didn't even realize… Link, I couldn't eat; I—I couldn't sleep… What if…What if I…"

"Of course you couldn't," he struggled to say. "After everything that's happened to you? I broke Ashton's staff knowing I could die from it. I knew your visions would be realized; I _knew_ what you would have to face..." He shook his head, his tears shining in the lamplight. "But I didn't know what else to do... The damage he could have done, the death and grief he could have caused…"

"You sacrificed yourself to protect our people," I whispered. "You acted selflessly—"

"No, no, I should never have walked into their trap!" he cried. "I came so close to death, Zelda—I nearly left you to this fate!" He turned away as though in pain, covering his face with a trembling hand. "For that I will never forgive myself."

I reached for him, wanting to console him, but he pulled me into a fierce embrace.

"I would undo it all if I could," he whispered, holding my head to his chest. "All the pain you've endured… I would give anything, _anything_, to bring our child back…"

I buried my face against his shirt, muffling my tears. He did the same against my hair, shaking with his own suppressed sobs.

"I'm so sorry," he choked. "I'm so sorry for everything…"

**xxxxxxx**

Ashton retired to his chambers at an unusually late hour. Darkness cloaked the castle, save for the main corridors, which were lined with torches. The young king walked alone—only his shadow sprang to accompany him at every torch. Aside from the crackling flames, Ashton heard nothing but his own boots tapping against the polished tile floor.

He had spent the entire evening in his study, poring over documents regarding the political arrangements Zelda maintained with the three tribes of Hyrule: the Gorons, the Zoras, and the Gerudo. Reviewing their many treaties had been a frustrating experience. The control Zelda yielded to such inferior species was appalling; surely they realized the Royal Hylian Army held the power to eliminate them? A union between Hyrule and Vandelius would only strengthen that power. Ashton sensed his rule over Hyrule was a weak one, but that would all change once Zelda became his wife. Ashton had already seized the throne; she had no excuse to deny his hand. Her dead father couldn't protect her this time, and her dead lover could no longer interfere. It was only a matter of time.

Ashton smiled to himself, pleased with the ease of his success. _Soon I will reclaim all that is rightfully mine._

Upon reaching his chambers, Ashton closed the door and headed for his bedroom—the very bedroom Zelda's father had occupied in life. Many had been shocked by Ashton's decision to take the late king's chambers for his own. They had found it disrespectful, and they feared Nohansen's restless spirit might haunt him there.

Ashton had dismissed their superstitious nonsense.

On the contrary, taking the old man's chambers had brought him great satisfaction. Ashton intended to take everything of Nohansen's—including his daughter. Once she became his bride, he would claim her in Nohansen's own bed.

Pleased to see a roaring fire in the hearth, the young king picked up a bottle of wine he kept near his bedside and poured himself a glass. Swishing the glass in his hand, he turned to face his greatest treasure, the source of his power.

It stood inside an ornately crafted golden case, visible only through small holes in the design. Without taking his eyes off his treasure, Ashton unfastened his collar and pulled out a golden chain he always wore around his neck. Suspended at the end of that chain hung a small golden key. With a smile he approached the golden case and placed his matching key in its lock, hearing a soft _click_. Then slowly he opened the case's long, narrow door and reached inside with trembling, eager hands…

His breath left him the moment his fingers brushed the staff's smooth wooden surface. Simply touching the weapon sent a shiver up his spine. His heart pounded as he carefully removed it from its case.

Slowly Ashton raised the staff to the light, admiring its sheer brilliance. It amazed him that something so simple could be so beautiful. To the ignorant eye it was merely a wooden rod with dark runes carved into it…runes containing the secret to its incredible power.

He loved how the staff seemed to glow in the firelight. It reminded him of the few times he'd summoned its power. It had coursed through his veins with such _exhilarating_ force…

"Admiring it again, are you?"

Ashton jumped and turned to glare at his intruder.

"This is what won my greatest victory," he snapped, his green eyes flashing. "You should be grateful for such power, _Vasilis_."

The minister emerged from the shadows, visibly unfazed by the young king's words.

"The dark arts are not to be tampered with," he said. "I say you destroy the staff, before it destroys you."

"_Destroy_ it?" Ashton exclaimed. "And risk a rebellion? Don't be a fool."

"The people should have no reason to rebel. Exactly what is it you fear?"

Ashton scoffed and turned toward the blazing hearth.

"It is fear that keeps them in line," he murmured, dropping his gaze to the staff. "My throne is not yet secure." Slowly he trailed his fingers along the staff. "I need this power…"

Vasilis narrowed his eyes.

"If you cannot bring yourself to part with it," he said, "then at least lock it away somewhere out of sight. It has a terrible aura about it."

Ashton looked at him in surprise. "An aura? You must be imagining it. I feel nothing."

The Hylian furrowed his brow, unnerved by the king's ignorance.

"I am not imagining it. It is very strong… and very unpleasant."

Ashton sighed and carefully placed the weapon back in its case.

"The staff will not leave my chambers," he said, locking the case and placing the key back around his neck. "Thus it should be none of your concern. Now leave me," he added sharply. "I wish to retire."

Vasilis complied, eyeing the staff another moment before turning for the door. He was glad to leave; the air in the king's bedroom had grown thick and stuffy.

_It's that cursed staff_.

His footsteps slowed to a stop, their echoes fading throughout the silent corridor. The minister stood there a moment, contemplating the fragility of the situation. The staff did grant Ashton the power to keep the throne, but he was a Vandelian; could he truly handle that power? Such was the recipe for disaster…

Vasilis turned to glance toward the young king's chambers, breathing a tired sigh.

"…I hope you know what you're doing," he muttered.

Then he pressed on toward his own chambers, suppressing the whisper of doubt in his heart.

**xxxxxxx**

"…He gave me only three months to mourn you. He intends to marry me as soon as possible, and I don't know what to do. If I refuse him I renounce the throne."

We lay stretched out on the small bed, wrapped in each other's arms. Our tears had quieted some time ago, and softly I had begun to share my side of the story.

"I don't want you to worry about that," Link murmured. "I'll kill him before he forces you into marriage."

His tone sent a chill down my spine; I knew it was no empty threat. I also knew Link meant it as a last resort. Ashton's death would not bode well for Hyrule; it would likely bring further war.

"What are you planning to do?" I asked him softly.

Link sighed against the crown of my head. "It's hard to say at this point. I've thought up a number of plans, but I need to discuss them with Clef when he returns, since Kinsley is obviously unreachable."

"I could bring him a message for you," I offered, propping myself up on my elbow to meet his gaze. "What do you need to tell him?"

Link shook his head. "No, Zelda, I don't want you doing anything like that. It's too risky."

"But I can help—"

"You just focus on enduring life in the castle," he said, stroking my cheek. "I'll ask no more of you."

I took his hand, willing him to see how serious I was.

"Link, I _want_ to help. I came looking for Shade so I could start some kind of plot against Ashton. Please, Link, I need action, not protection."

He studied me a moment, then breathed another sigh.

"All right," he said. "I need information. Right now I'm cut off from everything happening within the castle—aside from gossip, at least. I know Ashton probably keeps you in the dark as well, but learn whatever you can of his plans—and about that staff of his. We have little hope of defeating him unless that weapon is destroyed. But don't you go attempting to destroy it yourself; you hear me? It could be dangerous."

I nodded, brightening with the familiar rush of ambition. "How will we communicate?"

"I honestly don't know. It's too risky to even try at this point. Just stay sharp as you always are and learn what you can. I'll figure something out."

He pulled me closer then, kissing my forehead. "All I want is for you to be safe and well," he murmured. "I find it hard to believe he's kept his hands off you, mourning or not. Are you hiding anything from me?"

"He's done nothing worth mentioning," I said quietly. "Just the usual antagonistic games."

Link gave me a sympathetic look, and gently I nuzzled my face against his.

"It will be very difficult keeping you a secret."

"I know," he soothed. "But you'll have to try your best. My survival pretty much depends on secrecy…for now, at least."

"Then my lips are sealed," I whispered, kissing him softly.

We fell silent then, reveling in each other's warmth as a calmness settled upon the small room. Nothing but the sound of our slow, steady breathing touched my ears. I couldn't remember the last time I felt such peace.

"Are you asleep?" Link murmured, kissing my forehead.

"Almost," I mumbled. "Why?"

He kissed me again, letting his lips linger against my skin. "The candles are nearly out," he whispered, sadness lacing his tone. "I have to get you back to the castle before dawn."

I groaned and snuggled closer. "No…let's just stay here. Forever."

He ran his hand through my hair, smiling softly. "I think, your Majesty, that may prove problematic." Then his smile faded as worry lined his features. "This whole escapade of yours was madness. When I heard you call out…" He cupped my cheek, his face filled with wonder. "…I couldn't believe it."

I opened my mouth to speak, then furrowed my brow as a thought occurred to me.

"Why didn't I recognize your voice?" I asked him. "You didn't… I don't remember you sounding different, now when I think back…"

"I didn't," Link replied. "I used an anti-recognition spell. I wasn't sure it would work on you, but apparently it did."

I raised my brow. "An anti-recognition spell? Link, that's no amateur magic…"

"I've been practicing. I can't afford to be recognized by anyone."

"But you hate using magic…"

"I don't 'hate' it," Link corrected, sitting up on the bed. "I… prefer not to rely on it."

I sighed softly, imitating his posture. That was only half the truth. Link didn't simply dislike magic; he feared it. He feared its power and the corruption that came of it. He had experienced the worst of that abuse in his young life, and he wanted nothing to do with it. While I could understand his viewpoint, I knew magic to be a gift from the gods. It was meant to be used for the greater good, not abused or ignored.

Despite his reluctance, Link was no amateur spellcaster. He had a natural gift, being who he was, and I had taught him some additional skills over the years. The anti-recognition spell was one of them.

"Why did you hide from me like that?" I asked him gently. "I can see why you would use cloaks and spells against others, but against me?"

Link lowered his gaze, watching our fingers as they laced together.

"I didn't know how you would react," he murmured. "I wanted to…gauge your state of mind first."

I cupped his cheek, lifting his gaze back to mine.

"How could I feel anything but joy at seeing you again?" I whispered. "Especially after believing you were dead?"

Shame clouded his eyes. "I... I couldn't face you," he mumbled, looking away. "I just couldn't."

I turned his face back to mine. "How could you think that? Link, the entire world could turn against you, and I would still be yours. You know that."

"I do know," he whispered, stroking my face with a smile. "That doesn't mean I deserve it."

I frowned. "Link, that's not—"

But he silenced me with a kiss. Eagerly I returned it, wrapping my arms around his neck. Only after we'd stolen each other's breath away did we break apart, gasping for air.

"Gods, I wish I could keep you," Link breathed against my neck. "I hate to leave you alone at the castle. If only Impa were there with you…"

"Impa," I whispered, snapping to attention. "You've spoken with her?"

He nodded. "She visited the Fortress while I was recovering. She tried to reach you after discovering me, but they won't even let her into Castletown. She was nearly arrested."

Anger surged through me. _Ashton, you bastard._ "Where is she now?"

"I'm not sure. She went to speak with the other sages, but that's all I know. We thought it best to part ways for now."

I sighed, saddened that Impa would not return anytime soon.

"Don't worry about me," I told him. "Heather, my personal maid, has been caring for me, and she's a wonderful girl. She'll keep me company until I have you and Impa back."

Link sighed and tucked some hair behind my ear, letting his fingers brush my cheek.

"I'm glad," he said softly. "And I pray that day will come soon. But until then," he added sadly, "I must get you home."

"You mean you must get me back to the castle," I said as he helped me off the bed. "It isn't home without you."

Link reached for my cloak and placed it around my shoulders.

"It will be again," he soothed, kissing my forehead. "Someday."

Then he moved for the small table holding his medical supplies. His sword lay there, and quickly he strapped it around his waist. Then he reached for a pair of gloves, tugging them on before picking his cloak up off the floor.

"Link," I said, looking around the room. Aside from the bed, the bedside table, the larger, cluttered table, and a couple stools, the room lacked any kind of furnishings. "What is this place?"

"I found it," he said, throwing his cloak over his shoulders. "It's been abandoned—a rather nasty poe inhabited it before me. I simply cleared him out and claimed it as my own. Then I bought new sheets for the bed and tidied the place up a bit. It's no castle, but it'll do for now." He pulled up his hood, urging me to do the same.

"Wait here." Link touched my arm, his hooded gaze meeting mine. "I'll be right back."

I watched as he drew his sword and carefully stepped outside. He soon vanished into the shadows, but I knew he kept me in his line of sight. Within minutes he rematerialized and stepped back through the door.

"All right, it's clear," he said, taking my hand and squeezing it gently. "Stay close to me; I know a safe way back."

With that he shut the door behind us, raised an invisible barrier in place of a lock, and led me down the narrow street. Above us the inky blackness bled into faint lavender—already dawn had begun to reclaim her sky.

Link led me through alley after alley, avoiding what I assumed to be the more dangerous areas of eastern Castletown. How he navigated with such confidence, I could not fathom. Everything looked so similar, especially in the shadows of early morning. Some time passed before I began to recognize the wider streets of central Castletown.

Finally Link slowed us to a stop.

"This is as far as I can go," he whispered. "Just keep moving through the main square—I'm sure a guard will find you before anyone else. I'll be watching until you leave my sight."

I gazed up at him, swallowing the knot in my throat.

"I need you to promise you won't come looking for me again," he added, placing his hands on my shoulders. "It scared me to death when you hit the ground like that earlier. Promise me, Zelda…" He stroked my cheek, and I leaned into his touch, reluctant to comply.

"Okay," I mumbled. "I promise."

"I don't want you to worry about anything," he said, running his hands up and down my arms. "Everything will be all right..."

"When will I see you again?" I asked him softly, knowing it would be a long while.

"I don't know…it's very difficult to reach your Majesty." He smiled sadly. "I'm but a lowly street rogue now."

Tears stung my eyes as I flung my arms around his neck, desperately kissing him one last time. We stayed like that a while, locked in our embrace, struggling to make the moment last. Neither of us could walk away, even as the exposing sun's light crept ever closer.

"Go now," Link murmured between kisses, slowly loosening his hold on me. "Go."

Then he released me and pulled away, gently urging me forward. I forced myself on toward the town square, but not without turning back. Our eyes met, exchanging one last look of sorrow before he vanished back into the shadows.


	15. Chapter XV

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XV

"_I know this is hard to believe, but I am here… I'm here, Zelda."_

I tossed about in my sleep, a victim to my restless subconscious.

"_He planted images in my head… Things that never happened…"_

I knew only him. The weariness in his eyes, the warmth of his touch…all of it hovered before me, just out of reach. Always out of reach…

"_Zelda, I… I felt you slip away…"_

I longed to touch him again, to hold him in my arms until the fresh scars he bore had faded…

"_I escaped before he could kill me… I have no memory of it._

But I could not. I sensed nothing of him, not even a whisper.

"_I came so close to death, Zelda—I nearly left you to this fate!"_

And he sensed nothing of me. Only a void stretched between us now.

"_For that I will never forgive myself."_

My eyes slowly opened to a weakly sunlit room. All was silent, peaceful even.

And yet it wasn't.

I turned onto my side, breathing a quiet sigh against Link's pillow. The previous night seemed so much like a dream. Waking to the light of day likened to waking from some wondrous enchantment. I wanted to be with Link again, wrapped in his arms and listening to his heartbeat.

_If only I could feel you…_

Breathing another heavier sigh, I slowly rose from the bed, taking one of the sheets with me. I wrapped it around my shoulders, blotting out the morning chill as I walked into the sitting room. There I approached the large bay window, curling up on the seat and leaning my uninjured temple against the cool glass.

Although summer had begun settling back into Hyrule, the days remained grey and bleak. Thick clouds filled the sky, fighting to hide the sun's warmth and light. Just beyond the castle gates I spied the faded rooftops of Castletown, which I imagined already bustled with activity. This filled me with a quiet sense of joy, even despite the day's gloominess, because I knew Link dwelled somewhere beneath those rooftops.

_He's probably sleeping right now_. Having become a nocturnal man of action, Link had switched to resting during the day—as most outlaws did.

_He always wanted to sleep the day away_, I thought with a smile.

I pulled the sheets closer, struggling to ignore my incessant longing. Knowing Link lived had lifted the terrible weight of grief, but he still didn't _feel_ alive. He could have been hurt or killed since I left him, and I would never know it.

_How do normal people live like this?_ I sighed as the answer came to me—they had never known the kind of bond Link and I once shared.

I certainly didn't _need_ our telepathic connection to live a happy life with Link. But the thought of never feeling him again, of never touching his beautiful soul like that ever again…

I closed my eyes, forcing my thoughts in a different direction. I remembered the things he had told me, the way he had wept in my arms. He was in far worse shape than he wanted to admit, and I hated to leave him alone.

_I wish I could do more for you…_

A timid knock against the double doors lured my attention from the window. I looked to see Heather quietly enter the room.

"Oh, my Lady, good morning," she smiled, closing the door behind her. "I expected to find you sound asleep after what happened—the guards escorted you here just hours ago…"

"I'll be all right," I murmured. "There's too much on my mind for sleep."

Heather sat opposite of me on the window seat, following my gaze out toward Castletown. I knew she was anxious to know why I had left the previous night. I also knew she was too polite to ask.

I snuck a glance at her face, recognizing the wistfulness in her young features.

"How is Adam faring?" I asked her, feeling guilty as I always did when we discussed her fiancé.

"He's doing well, I think. He's glad to do work around the castle when they ask it of him—it can get pretty dull in his cell. I bring him books when I visit, which helps a lot. But he's never once complained, my Lady," she assured me. "He knows he brought his punishment upon himself."

"I'm glad he's doing well," I said quietly. "He's very lucky to have you."

She thanked me, smoothing some wrinkles from her apron.

"Shall I bring you a late breakfast, my lady?'

"That would be lovely, thank you."

She left the window and moved for the door.

"Heather."

She stopped and turned, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, my Lady?

"I didn't try to run away," I said softly, meeting her gaze.

"I—I'm sorry?"

"Last night—I didn't try to run away. I would never abandon my throne, Heather, certainly not to Ashton. I want you to know that."

She blinked, then blushed, then bowed her head.

"…I wouldn't blame you for running away," she murmured, raising her hazel eyes back to mine.

"I like to think I'm stronger than that," I said, giving her a weak smile.

"Oh, you are, my Lady; I know you are. I'm just saying… I would understand if you chose to leave. I would be frightened if you left, but I wouldn't hold it against you."

"Thank you, Heather," I smiled more genuinely. "I appreciate that. But I won't run away; I promise."

Heather opened her mouth to reply—just as a loud knock sounded at the door. I pulled the sheets closer, raising my guard as Heather hurried to answer.

"Her Majesty will have no visitors," she said to whoever stood at the door. "She is very ti—"

A gauntleted hand shoved her back, cutting her sentence short.

"Stand aside, servant girl."

The doors opened wide as three Vandelian soldiers entered the room, their armor clanking with each step. I remained as I was, not bothering to leave the window.

"You will treat my attendant with courtesy," I said coldly. "Are you soldiers or thugs?"

The taller soldier—the one who had shoved Heather—stepped forward. I recognized him as Captain Felix, one of Ashton's most loyal officers.

"Queen Zelda," he smirked. "Still as sharp-tongued as ever."

"I granted you no audience, Felix. Leave my chambers at once."

"Unfortunately for you, I come on the behalf of Lord Ashton himself. He expects you in his study within the hour." Felix crossed his arms and grinned. "We will escort you in your nightgown if necessary…or perhaps you're undressed beneath that sheet?"

The other two soldiers chuckled, but I stared them down, unfazed by their taunts.

"So you are thugs after all," I said, keeping my voice low. "Will you at least allow me some privacy, or did you never learn decency?"

Felix's smirk faded.

"You have twenty minutes. Servant girl," he snapped at Heather, "see that your mistress is ready for his Majesty. Twenty minutes," he repeated, his green eyes moving back to me, "and we take you as you are."

With that the soldiers left, loudly closing the doors behind them. Heather jumped to turn the lock, clearly flustered.

"Oh, my lady, I'm sorry," she stammered, sweeping a few brown strands from her red face. "Those…those scoundrels…"

"Don't worry about them, Heather," I sighed, stepping away from the window. "They're not worth it. Come, help me ready myself; I might as well look respectable."

She followed me into the bedroom, moving to my wardrobe and selecting a gown while I went to wash up. Then she left for the sitting room, preferring to give me privacy as I dressed. She returned only when I called her, assisting me with the many buttons running down my back. Then I sat before my vanity, letting her pin back my hair in a sophisticated fashion.

I checked myself in the mirror, wishing the gown did not flatter me as much as it did. I had not intended to look pretty for Ashton. I wore black, as I still officially mourned Link, but the tailored gown flattered the curves of my body. I was glad for the formal high collar, which I had fastened with a simple gold brooch bearing the Hylian crest.

"Is something the matter, my Lady?" Heather inquired, peeking into the mirror.

"I was just thinking my appearance will please Ashton," I told her, "and I'd rather avoid that."

She smiled. "Oh, but that's impossible—you're much too beautiful, my Lady."

I sighed but gently returned her smile. "You're sweet, Heather."

Then I returned to the sitting room, taking a seat to calmly wait for Felix and his men. They reentered the chamber only minutes later, clanking as loudly as before.

"Now that's better," Felix leered, pocketing what I knew to be a master key—most likely loaned to him by Ashton. "Lord Ashton will be pleased. Now come this way, your Majesty."

I followed him without a word, knowing resistance was pointless. I had figured there would be repercussions to my actions the previous night, and so I would face them.

_Just get it over with_.

The soldiers led me to the opposite wing of the castle, where Ashton's study was located. Guards stood at his double doors, as they always did. Wordlessly they opened the way for us, and I checked my expression before following Felix inside.

Ashton sat behind his desk, dressed in the usual red and black colors of Vandelius and deeply engrossed in what looked like reports. He didn't bother to rise but merely looked up, linking his fingers as he studied us in silence. I watched his emerald gaze roam my body but kept my expression calm.

"Leave us," he addressed the soldiers. Reverently they obeyed, bowing at the waist before closing the doors behind them.

Silence settled upon the room as we stared each other down. I struggled to appear only somewhat defiant—as a widow I would have limited energy for it.

"Captain Felix tells me you were found sneaking around Castletown last night," Ashton finally said. "Alone."

"I was not _found_," I corrected him. "I returned at my own will."

"Did you now? And precisely what did you hope to accomplish in Castletown at such an hour?"

I held his gaze. "That is my business."

Ashton chuckled and sat back in his chair.

"I think you know I can make it my business," he said, sobering with a dark look. "But I'll humor you—in fact, let's make a game of it. Why would little Zelda run off in the middle of the night?" he inquired aloud, scratching his chin and glancing up toward the ceiling. "Was she trying to escape? Not likely, since she supposedly returned at her own will…"

I stood with my hands at my sides, silently enduring his mockery. My face remained void of emotion.

"All these weeks I've ruled upon her throne, yet now she chooses to sneak off," he continued thoughtfully. "What could have inspired such recklessness in a grieving, recently heirless widow?"

I bowed my head, clenching my fists as tears burned my eyes. I had prepared myself for such low blows, but it seemed I could not yet steel myself against them. The miscarriage was an especially fresh wound on my heart.

_You will not cry. You will not give him the satisfaction._

"…Come to think of it," Ashton continued, still pretending to think aloud. "There has been a great deal of talk about that Shade character…"

My heart skipped a beat—partly out of fear.

"Surely you've taken an interest in him…? He does seem like your type, after all."

My sorrow faded, swept away by mirth. Ashton had meant it as an insult—not only to my taste in men, but to imply Link was no better than a street criminal. Inwardly I laughed. _How little you know, Ashton._

"You went looking for him, didn't you? Oh, you traitorous, pathetic little flower." Ashton threw back his head and laughed, clearly more amused than angry. "I assume you didn't find him?"

I lowered my gaze, staring at the floor in silence.

"Your face says it all," he smirked. "Good heavens, Zelda, you really are desperate, aren't you?"

A lump rose in my throat as the familiar sense of helplessness crept along the edges of my mind. Quickly I forced my thoughts into a happier place, to the precious little time I'd spent with Link.

"_Everything will be all right..." _his soothing voice echoed through my mind.

"None of the guards reported seeing you leave the grounds," Ashton's suspicious tone cut through my reverie. "Perhaps one of them assisted you and lied about it?"

"Of course not," I scoffed. "I need no assistance. This is my home, Ashton; I have my ways of leaving it undetected."

Ashton frowned, clearly unimpressed.

"Is that so? Well, then consider what generous freedom I've given you revoked. I'm posting guards at your chamber doors—and in the gardens below your balcony—and you will be escorted through the castle at all times. You're fortunate I don't post guards in your very chambers."

My heart sank. I could stand the guards—I'd lived without real privacy my entire life. I still had my chambers to myself, and that was all I needed. My true punishment was not a lack of privacy—it was my limited resources. How could I possibly gather information for Link with guards shadowing my every move? Ashton had rendered me more useless than I'd already been.

"And," he continued, every trace of humor gone from his voice, "I've given Felix orders to interrogate the guards."

My heart grew heavier. The Vandelians would likely endure the interrogations without consequence. It was the Hylians, my people, who would suffer. Under Ashton's rule, they could be imprisoned for mere suspicion.

"Ashton, please, you can't; they've done nothing—!"

"Those are my orders," he snapped, rising from his chair. "So unless you want to make life much more difficult for everyone around you, I suggest you keep every pretty little toe of yours in line."

I found myself stepping back as he drew closer, though my gaze never wavered.

"Do we have an understanding…?" he asked in a low, sultry voice, lifting his hand toward my cheek.

I jerked away. "Don't touch me."

"My dear Zelda," he smirked. "You have only, what, two months left to mourn? When that time has ended, I'll be able to touch you whenever and wherever I desire. You might as well get used to it."

Again he tried to advance, but in a flash I summoned my magic, stopping him with a glowing hand.

"You'll have to force your way through this first," I hissed.

To my surprise, Ashton merely smiled.

"Oh, I intend to," he grinned. "I have much in store for you."

I stared at him, struggling to ignore the chill sliding down my spine.

"I admire your spirit, Zelda, but you really must learn how a woman should behave." He frowned, annoyance darkening his features. "You always did have trouble with that."

Anger tore through me, pushing my control to its limit. I released it with a burst of laughter.

"You mean when I refused to obey you like a servant?" I exclaimed. "Or when I refused to overlook the way you paraded me about—only to sleep with whatever _strumpet_ caught your eye? You think Link's death has broken me, that in my grief I will simply bend to your will. You have never been more mistaken, Ashton. Even if I choose to be your wife, every day would be a struggle between us—that I can promise you. I will _not_ be your trophy."

He watched as I fought to regain my composure, and I was unnerved to see a smile curve his lips.

"Oh, I'm sure they will be," he said. "For a while, at least. I accept your challenge, Zelda—in fact I relish it. I look forward to finally breaking you."

He said it so quietly, yet the words pounded against my ears. I wanted to dismiss them as another empty taunt, but something told me they meant much more…something behind his eyes.

"…This meeting is over," I said, keeping my hand up as I moved for the door.

Ashton let me leave without another word, but I could feel his eyes on my back until the door closed between us. The unease his demeanor had brought me refused to fade as I distanced myself from his study. I headed back toward my chambers, quickening my pace as the feeling grew stronger.

Then it struck me, like a blow to the stomach. How unbearable would that conversation have been, had I not known Link lived? _Suppose I had returned from Castletown empty-handed?_

Tears stung my eyes as the thought rolled over me, crushing my spirit with its weight. What little hope there would have been… What misery could have stretched out before me in this very moment…

_But he's alive. My Link is alive._

I slowed to a stop in the empty corridor, supporting myself with a hand to the wall as gratitude swept through me with overwhelming force.

"Thank you," I whispered, tears wetting my face. "Thank you…"

**xxxxxxx**

The days crawled by at an agonizing pace. More than a fortnight had passed since my reunion with Link, and I had grown more restless than ever. Between worrying about him and failing to learn anything useful about Ashton's plans, I feared the monotony would drive me to madness.

The lack of news regarding Shade didn't help either. People would relive stories they had heard—stories I knew they exaggerated—but there was never anything new. As much as it saddened me to consider the distance between us, I prayed he had simply left Castletown, or perhaps decided to lie low for a while.

I kept my distance from Ashton but attended court regularly—mostly to keep up appearances and collect what little information I could. Every now and then I'd catch Ashton watching me from across the room, smiling in that same unsettling way. I tried to shrug it off, telling myself he only wanted to make me uneasy. But deep down I suspected something more behind those devious glances, some darker scheme. Considering how little my use of magic had fazed him, I knew it involved power. Ashton despised few things more than my Gift—it gave me a clear advantage over him. If he was to ever "claim" me, he would have to defeat me.

I neared the main halls at an easy pace—careful to move slowly without expressing my reluctance. Behind me the guards' Vandelian armor clanked with every step, but I pretended not to notice. Their presence did not intimidate me.

As I neared the large entryway leading into the main halls, the sound of music greeted my ears. Music normally pleased me, but Ashton had been filling my halls with Vandelian tunes for the past two weeks, and I longed to hear the songs of my own kingdom.

The lords and ladies greeted me with their usual obligatory nods. I declined to nod in return. They were traitors after all, and the so-called gestures of respect never reached their eyes. Courtly conduct had always been something of a game for me, but amongst these players I barely spared a chance.

Taking care to stay far away from Ashton, I vaguely observed the bejeweled attire of the musicians. Aside from the large gems covering their limbs and hanging from their necks, their shimmering clothes appeared to be made of spun gold. It was…

"Garish," I muttered, eyeing them with distaste.

"The music or the clothes?" a familiar voice spoke behind me. "Either way I agree."

My heart rose as I turned to find Siena's beaming face.

"You always do manage to surprise me," I smiled, giving her a quick embrace.

"Oh, wait until you hear what I have to tell you." She leaned closer then, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Do you think we could go somewhere more…private?"

"The gardens are best," I told her. "My chambers might look suspicious. Guards follow me everywhere now."

"Hm," Siena frowned as the armed Vandelians fell in step behind us. "I'll whisper then, once we find a place to sit."

We left the hall and headed outside, making superficial conversation as the guards followed. Outside the day was cloudy as usual, and the air chilly. I hugged my black shawl closer about my shoulders, taking a moment to admire the colors which had finally returned to the gardens. Flowers bloomed everywhere, and the trees had begun to fill their winter skeletons, but I longed to see it all in proper sunlight.

I led Siena into the center of the gardens, toward one of the more majestic fountains. Its large structure featured streams of water bursting from horns played by three beautiful angels.

"Let sit here," I declared, loudly enough for the guards to hear. To my relief they stood back near the bushes, unable to hear us over the fountain's constant noise.

"Oh, Zelda," Siena breathed, clutching my hands as her face lit up. "I've been so excited to tell you—Clef came home!"

Brightly I returned her smile, sighing as relief swept through me.

"Thank the gods… How is he?"

"He's fine, just fine. Happy to be home again. He's been back a while, actually… Things at the Phoenix are slowly returning to normal too. Even Vandelian soldiers think twice before crossing a big, strong man like Clef," she smirked, glancing toward the guards.

I gave her a sad smile. "I take it Shade hasn't visited recently, then?"

I hadn't meant to switch subjects so quickly, but I couldn't help myself. Two long weeks had passed with no word of him, and I longed for some scrap of news—anything to quell my constant worry.

"That's actually why I came to see you," Siena grinned, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Zelda, I know who he is."

I looked at her with widened eyes, then checked myself before the guards took interest.

"You…you know?"

She nodded. "He came to us a couple nights after Clef came home. The poor thing looked like he hadn't slept in days…but he was alive—as you already know." Her eyes sparkled as she gave my hand another squeeze. "Clef was so happy to see him… The two of them spoke for hours. They're planning something; I don't know what exactly. They want to keep me out of it—for my own safety, they tell me," she scoffed. "I came to see you because they've arranged for a secret meeting—tonight at the Phoenix. They're recruiting people for an underground resistance of some kind. He'll be there, Zelda, right at the inn! He'll be disguised as Shade, of course, but I'm sure the recruits won't take up the entire night. I thought that, if you could sneak out like you did before…"

I lowered my gaze, feeling my heart sink.

"Did Link send you?" I asked her softly.

"Oh, no!" Siena laughed before dropping her voice back to a whisper. "He specifically told me _not_ to go telling you about this. He doesn't want you taking any risks for him, but that's hardly a concern for you; am I right?"

Again I looked away, sadness filling my face.

"Ordinarily, yes," I told her, "but things have recently become…complicated."

Siena furrowed her brow.

"Too complicated to see him? Zelda, he'll be leaving Castletown again tomorrow morning… You might not have another chance for a long while… So I thought—"

"I appreciate that, Siena," I gently cut her off. "Really, I do. But I cannot go. There were serious repercussions last time, and Ashton would show no mercy if I left again. It's not me I'm concerned about. Ashton threatened to harm others if I disobeyed him again. He knows what he's doing; he knows he can control me in this way."

"But—"

"Siena, think about what you're saying. If I left tonight, it would endanger you and anyone else working at the Phoenix. You think Ashton would overlook the fact that I left the night of your visit—especially after two quiet weeks of good behavior?"

She frowned, struggling to come up with an argument.

"Then just stay away," she pleaded. "Don't come back…"

She trailed off as I shook my head.

"You know I can't do that."

She sighed and looked away, watching the fountain before taking my hand.

"I do know," she murmured. "…I'm sorry, Zelda."

I swallowed, giving her hand a light squeeze.

"I'm sorry too."

**xxxxxxx**

I retired to my chambers as the sun began to set, deeply saddened by the decision I'd been forced to make. Temptation had danced circles around me since Siena left, and still I struggled to resist. My resolve continued to weaken the moment I stepped foot in my bedroom. Immediately I had gone to my vanity, pausing only a moment before pushing my chair aside and kneeling on the floor. Breathing a quiet sigh, I had then lifted the spell protecting a hidden compartment in the stone tiles. Therein lay a small chest containing the Ocarina of Time. I had placed it there since Ashton seized the throne, just in case he decided to go through my belongings.

Now I sat on the floor with my back against the bed, caught once again between duty and desire. At my feet lay the Ocarina, its gleaming blue surface appearing more lavender in the candlelight.

I had already chosen not to act on Siena's plan, but, oh, how I wanted to. My reunion with Link felt as though it had happened ages ago, and I longed to see him again. I _ached_ to see him again.

Link didn't want me to come. I had already promised I wouldn't leave the castle to see him…but he wouldn't be unhappy to see me. He missed me just as much as I missed him; I didn't need the bond to know that…

_You cannot_, the cold voice of reason pierced my thoughts. _The risk is too great._

I could not deny it. I had no real reason to leave the castle—I had failed to collect any useful information. _What exactly am I considering? Fleeing the castle to hug and kiss him a few times?_

Tears stung my eyes as I scoffed aloud. "You're not that pathetic," I whispered. "You're stronger than that." Then I fell silent, wiping away my tears as melancholy settled in.

_Put the Ocarina away. You're just torturing yourself…_

Slowly I moved to do so—only to pause when my attention suddenly shifted toward the balcony. A small crimson light drifted near the open doors.

I rose to my feet, watching as it hovered closer. I took no defensive stance—I sensed no threat from the light.

Then it began to change shape, forming the body of a woman surrounded to a soft glow. I gazed upon the beautiful creature still hovering above me, her long magenta hair floating as though weightless. She wore no clothes, but magical green vines wrapped every which way around her body, hiding little but preserving her dignity.

"Great Fairy," I breathed, "I am honored…"

She smiled gently, and I felt happiness warm my heart—if only for a moment.

"_The honor is mine, Keeper of Wisdom."_ She spoke Ancient Hylian, yet the old language sounded even more beautiful, flowing from her lips like a melody. _"I can see my presence has surprised you."_

Indeed it had. With the exception of Kokiri guardians, fairies rarely left their fountains, and Great Fairies almost never did.

"_I have come to bid you farewell."_

I furrowed my brow, my heart sinking all the more. _"Farewell?"_

"_I've also come with a warning, one involving the fate of Hyrule. Scripture tells us that any ruler unblessed by the gods will cast Hyrule into a world of darkness. The tyrant Ashton has seized your throne, and the Keeper of Courage has been forced into secrecy. Things are in motion that must be undone; else we face a second Imprisoning War…"_

"_My husband and I will never allow it,"_ I said firmly._ "He is building a rebellion as we speak, and I will do what I must to stop Ashton. History will not repeat itself."_

The Great Fairy studied me a moment, her beautiful face solemn.

"_Evil has already begun to plague this land. It is affecting the more sensitive servants of the gods—I am no exception. It saddens me to leave my home, but I must take refuge with my sisters living farther away."_

I bowed my head, swallowing the shame her words brought. It was my duty to protect all living creatures of Hyrule, yet had I failed to keep my own castle grounds safe from the taint of evil.

"_It grieves me to hear this, Great Fairy," _I said quietly. _"I beg you forgive my failure."_

"_I bear you no ill will, blessed Keeper. But beware—soon this evil will begin to __affect the land itself, and all will suffer the consequences_."

"_I know," _I whispered. _"I remember."_

"_Then I shall bid you farewell. May the gods be with you, Keeper of Wisdom, and know that you are always welcome to visit me and my sisters."_

With that, she transformed back into a sphere of light and departed through my balcony doors. I hurried out outside and grabbed the railing, watching her go until she vanished into the night.

"Goodbye," I whispered.

Then I turned back into my chambers, locking the doors and loosening the curtains. Quickly, before temptation could tighten its hold on me, I placed the Ocarina back in its chest. Then I sealed the stone tiles in place, blinking back tears as I retired to bed.


	16. Chapter XVI

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XVI

"_What is your name?"_

_A low, sinister voice filled my head, echoing through the fog as it began to clear._

"_My name…is Link."_

_A scene materialized, and sadness filled me as I looked upon a familiar sight. Link lay chained to a dark altar, beaten and exhausted. His hooded captor stood over him, asking questions in a monotonous tone._

"_Have you any family?"_

"…_No…"_

"_You've been an orphan all your life."_

"…_Yes."_

"_What of your mentor, Shayne?"_

"_Shayne… He was…a father to me…"_

"_But he wasn't your father."_

"_He...he wanted to be…"_

"_But now he's dead," the necromancer sneered, adopting a more vicious tone. "Because you failed to protect him in battle, your captain, the man you loved like a father, is dead."_

_Link closed his eyes, letting tears slip from his lashes_.

"_But there is another you love," the cloaked man spoke. "A woman…"_

_Link opened his eyes, fear and sorrow lining his face._

"_What is her name?"_

_Link hesitated, unable to reply as he fought back tears. The man growled and thrust a strange device into his side, one I had seen in previous visions. Link thrashed against his chains and cried out in pain._

"What_ is her name?"_

"_Zelda," Link gasped. "Zelda…"_

"_Yes. She's a married woman now, isn't she? Who is Zelda's husband?"_

_Again Link hesitated, but only for a moment._

"_Ashton," he whispered._

"_Not you?"_

"…_No." He closed his eyes as more tears streaked his face._

"_That was all a dream, wasn't it?"_

"_Y-yes…"_

"_Did she ever return your love?"_

_His eyes opened, so clearly filled with pain._

"_Yes," he choked._

"_But she left you?"_

"_She…she chose duty over me."_

"_That's right. And in your selfish anger you abandoned her. You failed her just as you did your captain."_

_Link clenched his fists against the altar, fighting not to cry._

"_And now she is dying. At this moment, she labors to bear her husband's child. Her difficult pregnancy has rendered her ill and weak—the birth surely will kill her. Just like her mother… How very tragic."_

_Terror filled Link's tortured face, and despite his exhaustion he struggled against his chains._

"_No…"_

"_You left her to suffer this miserable fate, yet still she cries for you… Can you hear her? Can you _feel_ her agony?"_

_The necromancer gripped Link's forehead, causing him to sob in anguish._

"_She's slipping away… I _know_ you can feel that."_

_Wildly Link thrashed against his chains, crying my name again and again._

"_ZELDA! ZELDA, NO! _ZELDA!_"_

_Then he collapsed against the altar, shaking as he wept for me. His captor drew an item from the folds of his cloak—a dagger. I watched in horror as he pressed the blade to Link's flesh, just above his heart. Again Link thrashed against the altar, screaming as blood seeped from his wound. With a sinister grin, the man dragged his blade across Link's heart._

"_At last…oh _mighty_ Hero of Time…you are broken…"_

I woke with a gasp, startled as always to find myself in bed.

Thunder rumbled outside my window, followed by a flash of lightning. Vaguely I recognized the sound of rain pattering against my window.

I closed my eyes and pressed my trembling hands to my face, rubbing away the tears that had fallen in my sleep.

_Link… _More tears built up inside, burning my throat as the scene lingered in my mind.

_Why do I still dream of this? _For three consecutive nights the same dream had plagued my sleep, and each time I had seen a little more.

Slowly I drew my legs up against my chest and rested my chin on my knees, pondering what I had seen this time around.

_So that was how he did it. He convinced Link both Shayne and I had died because of his actions—or his lack of action._

Link had yet to stop blaming himself for Shayne's death; that much was true. But the rest was an elaborate lie, woven using the threads of his memories and feelings. That Link had so easily believed that lie… He had been truly lost by that point.

Fresh tears stung my eyes as I recalled the horror in his face, the way he had desperately cried my name. That monster had struck his soul again and again, beating his spirit with twisted truths until Link lost the will to fight back. Physical pain could not break him, but even Link could not withstand such overwhelming grief.

_But that's all over now… Link is free. Why do I still see these visions?_

_Unless…_

An image of the dagger flashed through my mind, as did the echo of Link's screams.

_The dagger had barely touched him, yet he reacted with such pain…_

My heart pounded as a thought struck me._ The black blade…could it mean something?_

_Just how much did Link hide from me that night we last met…?_

I jumped as thunder crashed outside, jolting me from contemplation. I looked toward the window, watching as another flash illuminated my chambers.

_I need to know more…but how?_

More thunder, though this time I barely heard it. I knew what I had to do.

_Nabooru… I must speak with her._

The last thing Link remembered about his imprisonment was waking at the Gerudo Fortress. Nabooru could tell me more—she had been there with him, after all.

Staggering though it was, the physical distance between me and Nabooru meant nothing when it came to the Ocarina of Time. By playing the "Requiem of Spirit," I could teleport to the Desert Colossus within seconds.

Naturally the same issue of secrecy still remained, since my only way back into Castletown was through the Temple of Time. Ashton would know I had left the castle again.

Determination flared within me as I threw back the covers and rose from my bed. I moved to the balcony doors, pulling back the curtains to watch the storm outside. A vicious wind whipped at the treetops as rain fell in a thick downpour.

_I will find a way_, I decided. _I must._

**xxxxxxx**

Slowly I strolled the tall library shelves, scanning their walls of books for the titles I desired. I was glad to escape the watchful eyes of my guards, though one had followed me inside the library while the other remained outside in the corridor. His persistence had irritated me, since there was no reason for him to intrude, but at least he had let me browse in peace.

After giving the situation some serious thought, I had realized I had only one way to successfully leave the castle and investigate my visions: with Ashton's permission.

I also needed to escape my watchful guards. The impossibility of such a plan had at first overwhelmed me, and for nearly three days I had plotted countless schemes—none of which I bothered to attempt. Caution was an absolute necessity—I had only one chance, after all.

I had also taken some time to research weapons and rituals, hoping to stumble upon something related to my visions. But even with the seemingly countless resources within the castle library, I found nothing relevant. I suspected a reason for my lack of success. The necromancer had most likely performed a ritual involving forbidden black magic, and the library contained few books exploring such a dark subject. I knew of other libraries that might hold the answers—particularly Nabooru's library within the Spirit Temple. She had most likely researched the matter herself, and I longed to know of her discoveries.

It was during my research that a plausible idea finally dawned on me. A ritual, I had realized, could very well be the answer I sought. Religion remained a subject Ashton cared little about, but he always feigned an interest in Hyrulean beliefs and traditions to gain favor with my people. If I could find a prayer ritual that required complete seclusion over a long period of time, then maybe—just _maybe_—I could gain private access to the Temple of Time, and from there to the Desert Colossus.

It was a long shot, but it was also the first solid idea I'd come up with. The potential had excited me, and eagerly I had returned to the library the next afternoon. I was careful not to visit too early, as that would surely rouse suspicion. I also made sure I didn't stay too long. This made research a challenge, but I was determined to find what I needed that afternoon.

After gathering a decent collection of books on religious subjects, I sat down at one of the tables to scan their pages. Thankfully the guard did not approach to see what books I had chosen, so as usual I pretended he wasn't there.

I turned page after page, propping my head up as my determination began trickling away. Most of the prayers and ceremonies could be performed right in the castle chapel. Many required only a couple of hours to perform, and those which lasted days required no isolation. Again and again I closed my book before grabbing another, and as my stack steadily shrank I began to lose hope.

My attention weakened, I found my gaze straying toward the large, unlit fireplace. My eyes settled upon the red plush sofa which stretched out before it, perfect for curling up with a book.

I smiled softly, feeling a familiar tug of sadness. Growing up, Link and I had spent many evenings reading together on that very sofa.

Link had not been illiterate when I first met him, but having grown up in the Kokiri Forest, his education had been somewhat limited. Very few books could be found among the Kokiri, and they contained either outdated or fictional information. Link had read them all time and time again, but the castle library contained volumes far too advanced for him. Still he had been determined to learn, and I had helped him improve.

His efforts had often left him frustrated and discouraged, and I had done whatever I could to lift his spirits. I sometimes read to him in silly voices, imitating people we knew, and we would laugh until our sides ached...

Fondly I pictured a twelve-year-old Link, bright-eyed and burdened with little more than expanding his vocabulary. Little had he known of the changes fate would thrust upon him in just a few years' time.

We continued to spend time together in the library as we grew older, though not nearly as often. Our duties kept us apart, and, being engaged to Ashton, my time with Link soon became inappropriate. But we managed to share some evenings together, and their rarity made them all the more special. We would read together in silence, play chess, or simply make conversation. Sitting alone in the quiet library, talking softly before the warm fire—it created a sense of intimacy between us, one that soothed our deep, mutual loneliness.

For a while, neither of us had dared act on our feelings—it was unthinkable. But then, one day, Link's self-restraint finally gave way.

It happened between the rows of bookshelves, near one of the large windows, just as the sun had begun to set. Link and I had been talking, as usual. Although I had always dominated our conversations, I noticed he had been quieter than usual that day. I had paused to ask him a question, to coax him out of his silence, and he had looked at me with the gentlest, most conflicted expression I'd ever seen. Then, wordlessly, he had cupped my cheek and pressed his lips to mine.

Link hadn't planned to kiss me that day, and I certainly hadn't expected it. I could have pulled away; there had been time before our lips met. But deep down I had wanted his touch more than anything. So, unthinkingly, I had closed my eyes and let him come. Link had quickly broken away, shocked by his impulsive actions. He might have finished his stammered apology—had I not grabbed his face and fervently kissed him back.

The scene appeared fairytale-like as a memory, but at the time it had frightened me. What we had done was strictly forbidden, in more ways than one, and I feared our beautiful friendship had been ruined. Once reality finally caught up with me, I had tearfully broken our kiss and ran out of the library—away from him—as fast as my shaking legs could carry me.

I had tried to avoid him the next several days, not wanting to face the awkward confrontation, not wanting to experience the end of our friendship. But Link had pursued me with something entirely different in mind. Only he could persist with such gentleness…

I shook my head, fingering my wedding band as I forced my eyes back to my book. The hollow ache inside was terribly strong, but I couldn't allow myself to dwell on it. Missing Link would not bridge the distance between us.

I combed through every paragraph, dismissing one after another. I nearly slammed the book shut, but then remembered I wanted to avoid suspicion. As far as the guards were concerned, I was browsing for my own amusement, nothing more. I turned another page, disheartened by how little of the book remained. It was an older volume, one I had thought looked promising…

And then I saw it.

I sat up—slowly, so not to alert the guard—and smoothed the weathered page with my fingers. Excitement bubbled within me as my eyes devoured each word.

_This… This could work…_

My heart pounded as the idea evolved in my mind.

_I would have to present it very strategically, but maybe, just maybe…_

Barely remembering my casual façade, I closed the book and gathered my rejected stack. Placing those back on their proper shelves, I then strode out of the library. In my arms I clutched the one book which—I hoped—held my key out of the castle.

**xxxxxxx**

"_At last… oh _mighty_ Hero of Time… you are broken…"_

_Link fell against the altar, gasping for air as blood seeped from his cut. Weakly he called my name as tears streaked his face._

_The necromancer lifted his dagger, flashing a grin in the dim torchlight._

"_That's right," he sneered. "Let the despair fill every crevice of your mind… You know what you've done."_

_He paused, bending down toward Link's ear._

"_You failed her," he whispered. "You've killed her."_

_Link's eyes flew open—focusing on his captor with startling clarity. A fury like no other burned in those eyes, unlike anything I had ever seen._

_Then suddenly a light emanated from his hand—from the Triforce of Courage—as he began pulling against his chains. His muscles coiled and shook from the strain, and red streaks trailed from his shackles. His clenched teeth slowly parted as he released a final hoarse cry…_

_And severed his chains in two._

_A resounding metallic _clang _filled the chamber_ _as they fell against the altar, followed by the necromancer's stunned gasp._

"_No… Impossible!"_

_Before he could back away, Link sat up and snatched him by the throat. Their eyes locked for one profound moment, expressing more than words ever could. Then Link hurled him back toward the wall, directly into a blazing torch. Screams filled the chamber as the man fell to the floor, his cloak engulfed in flames._

_Link did not bother to finish him._

_After blasting off the chains binding his ankles, he dropped from the altar and fled the room. My bodiless eyes pursued him, watching as he sprinted down a dark corridor and blasted an iron door clean off its hinges. The energy he drew from the Triforce astounded me._

_Again he tore through the darkness, passing the very prison cell he had occupied for so long. Blood-chilling screams erupted from both sides, but Link rushed by without so much as a cringe. The Triforce of Courage shone brightly from his hand, illuminating his determined but otherwise emotionless face._

_As I watched him blast through another door and press on, I noticed the walls and floor had begun to merge into a circular formation… An underground tunnel. Already I could see the small circle of light up ahead…daylight._

_The way out._

_Link hurried toward it, unfazed by the sharper rocks beneath his feet. He had yet to pause and catch his breath._

_Then at last he left the tunnel—skidding to a halt at the edge of a cliff._

_A vast and seemingly bottomless chasm stretched out before him, yet the cliff's peak rose meters above. A rush of fear swept through me—he was trapped. One slip and he would surely fall to his death…_

_But Link did not hesitate. Immediately he grabbed the closest niche and hoisted himself up onto the rocky wall. Higher and higher he climbed, using nothing but small cracks, protrusions, and his own hands and feet. He reached the top within moments, pulling himself up onto flat land. A rocky terrain lay before him, and further ahead a sea of sand, dry and lifeless._

_Link kept running. His stamina was inhuman, but something more than strength propelled him onward—the power of the Triforce. It had freed him from imprisonment, and now it pushed him on toward… what exactly?_

_On and on he ran, never faltering, never showing any sign of fatigue. Soon the rocky terrain had faded into the horizon, leaving only an ocean of sand. Link flew over it like a Gerudo stallion, forcing his way up a hill and down the other side._

_Then suddenly the Triforce's glow began to fade, and within moments the power had gone, retreating back into the depths of his being. Link's exhausted body slumped forward, forced to stumble a few more steps before he finally collapsed in the sand._

_I tore my eyes from his still form, anxiously scanning the distance for a rescuer. Someone had to come; this was a vision of the past…_

_Then I saw them—three shapes forming amidst the golden hills. Nabooru's scouts. They headed directly toward Link, though I knew they could not see him amidst the waves of sand. His rescue had been nothing short of a miracle._

_A strange sensation swept through me then, and I suddenly found myself flying backward. Some unknown force whisked me back toward the cave Link had just fled. I dropped down alongside the cliff, then reentered the dark tunnel. Panic jarred my senses as the circle of daylight steadily shrank and the darkness closed in around me…_

_No, stop…stop…STOP!_

I sat up with a gasp, barely absorbing my surroundings. I couldn't believe what I had seen. One large piece of the puzzle had finally fallen into place.

Link had escaped the prison… _using the power of the Triforce_.

How it had awoken within him, I did not know. What I did know was I needed to find that prison. I needed to find the necromancer.

I needed to know he was dead.

**xxxxxxx**

"…I think this is an excellent idea, my Lord. The _Devota Desh'iriai_ has not been performed by a monarch for generations. It's been all but forgotten. The goddesses will surely be pleased."

Silently I stood beside Lady Renae, listening as she so carefully explained my intentions to Ashton.

After discovering a ceremony that just might give me private access to the Temple of Time, I had begun plotting how to gain Ashton's approval. I had soon realized I could not accomplish this task alone. I needed an ally, someone who could convince Ashton for me.

Lady Renae was my answer. As Minister of Religious Affairs, she was the perfect person to present my wish. We both knew how to approach the issue from a political angle, but Renae held a far better chance of Ashton hearing her with an open mind.

The _Devota Desh'iriai_, or the Devotion to the Holy Sisters, involved three entire days of reflection, prayer, and fasting. Such was no simple task, requiring complete concentration and meditation. For this reason the ceremony called for complete isolation. The Temple of Time provided the perfect location.

My plan stood just one step from success. Only Ashton's permission stood in my way.

He sat behind his desk, his suspicious eyes moving between Renae and me as she explained the Devotion to him. His expression proved difficult to read, and I found myself losing confidence with each passing moment.

_He's never going to agree to this. Why did I get so excited?_

"Let me see if I understand this correctly," he said when Renae had finished. "You want to spend _three days_ alone in the temple, without food and drink, so you can _pray_?"

I braced myself, ready for his rejection, but Renae did not weaken.

"My Lord, this ceremony is a gesture of sacrifice to the goddesses, and fasting strengthens the spirit. It would help her Majesty, considering everything that's happened…"

I lowered my gaze, remembering to act as a grieving widow. Ashton considered her words, studying me as he thoughtfully stroked his chin.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow my future bride to go three entire days without nourishment—it's unhealthy and absurd.

"But," he added, causing me to lift my gaze. "As you have already warned me, Lady Renae, there are those who think me indifferent to the religious foundation of Hyrule, which is entirely false. Our kingdoms do indeed hold…different beliefs, but I have no wish to extinguish that element of your rich culture."

_As long as it doesn't interfere with your agenda,_ I growled inwardly. _You've already refused to perform our sacred Rite of Kingship._

"So, as an expression of my good intentions, I am willing to compromise. I will grant you one day and one night in the temple. Not three—_one_. I'm sure you can divide the hours of the day between your gods.

"Goddesses," I corrected him, irked by his flippant tone. "This prayer is meant for the divine Sisters, the arch-goddesses. They each receive their own day of honor."

Renae nodded her agreement, but immediately I regretted my words.

_What are you doing? Just take what he allows—you're lucky he's cooperating at all._ Quickly my thoughts turned to the vision I had seen the previous night. _This is far too important to bother with retorts._

Ashton narrowed his eyes, and nervously I waited.

"In that case you'll have to pray thrice as hard for each of them," Ashton smirked. "Let's hope these _sisters_ have learned to share."

He laughed at his own joke while Renae and I remained solemn.

"Twenty-four hours, Zelda," Ashton then said, the mirth leaving his sharp features. "Take it or leave it."

"Fine," I said, secretly relieved. "I accept."

"I will have a small company of guards posted around the temple at all times."

"Naturally."

"I can make the arrangements, my Lord," Renae offered.

"That's quite all right, Lady Renae; I'd rather do it myself." Ashton gave her one of his false, charming smiles. "I've learned to take no chances when it comes to my betrothed. As for you, dear Zelda," he added, his smile wilting as he turned to me. "I hope you realize how very gracious I'm being, considering your shameful behavior these past few weeks. I expect you to return the favor somehow—do you understand?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't," I answered coldly.

"I want you to stop expressing such public disdain toward me. You will attend court with me, you will remain at dinner until I permit you to leave, and you will do so with a smile on that pretty face. Have I made myself clear?"

I hesitated, fighting the sharp reply gathering on the tip of my tongue. One hostile word was all Ashton needed to destroy my chances of leaving the castle.

"…I shall try," I said rigidly, meeting his emerald gaze.

"There, see?" he grinned. "Things don't have to be so miserable between us. Let us consider this a step forward in our relationship. But I'd better see a change in you, Zelda, or things will be most unpleasant for everyone…as you already know."

I held his gaze but said nothing.

"You're dismissed," he then said, ushering us out with a flick of his hand.

Renae gave a quick, courteous bow, but I simply turned for the door, eager to leave before he changed his mind. Excitement tingled in my limbs, though muffled by a sense of wariness. That Ashton had allowed me to leave the castle at all reflected a deep-rooted confidence in his power. The source of such power both troubled and eluded me; I prayed my brief escapade would help lift the fog of uncertainty.

**xxxxxxx**

I rose before dawn the next morning, eager to use every moment of Ashton's compromise. Renae had offered to escort me to the temple, and I had gladly accepted. A part of me felt guilty for deceiving her; she seemed so excited that I had thought to perform the _Devota Desh'iriai_. But that guilt faded the moment we laid eyes on the magnificent Temple of Time. My visions had come to me the past several nights for a reason, and deception had become a tool—the only way to act without endangering others. The goddesses had guided me to this point; of that I had no doubt.

When our company reached the temple doors, Renae turned to address the twelve guards Ashton had assigned me, just to ensure I never left the temple grounds. I had no problem with this arrangement—all I needed was complete solitude within the temple, something Renae had already promised.

"Take your positions, but do not step beyond these doors. It is crucial that her Majesty remains in total isolation, free from all distractions. Am I understood?"

The guards gave their unanimous consent. Satisfied, Renae then turned to give me a proud smile. "Until tomorrow morning, Lady Zelda. May the holy Sisters grant you their blessing."

I returned her smile. "Thank you, Renae. This would never have been possible without you."

Then I turned for the doors, which two guards held open for me. I strode past them and entered the temple, lifting my eyes to the towering columns, the gleaming tiles, the narrow red carpet leading toward the Altar of Time…such a majestic sight never failed to impress.

The guards pulled the heavy, groaning doors until they closed with a resounding echo. Flames magically burst to life along the far walls, casting shadows through the dark and silent chamber. Quickly I spun around and raised my hands, summoning a magical barrier. Then I thrust it against the doors, sealing them shut. The guards would not enter prematurely; but I would take no chances. I could not afford to have someone open the doors and find an empty chamber.

I moved toward the center of the temple, letting the tranquility I found within its stone walls seep into my every pore. I felt a peaceful silence, but one that demanded reverence. An ideal setting for prayer.

But I had not come to pray, not this time. I had a mission to fulfill, and there was no time to spare.

Stepping onto the raised polygonal slab adorning the floor, I bent down and lifted my skirts to detach a small pouch I had tied to my thigh. Loosening the drawstring, I carefully pulled out the Ocarina of Time. Attaching it to my leg had been the only way I could bring it with me, as the Devotion required the absence of all earthly materials. I'd brought only the clothes on my back, which included a simple gown and a heavy cloak.

Holding the Ocarina to my heart, I bowed my head to whisper a quick prayer of thanks, followed by a humble plea for guidance. Then I brought the instrument to my lips and softly played the sad, familiar notes of the "Requiem of Spirit." The temple quickly faded with a flash of warm light.

One moment later I found myself surrounded by swirling dry sand. I squinted as it whistled past my ears, cautiously absorbing my new surroundings. An ocean of sand stretched out to my left, broken by the distant canyon walls surrounding the Desert Colossus. To my right rose the great Spirit Temple, headquarters of Nabooru, Sage of Spirit and Queen of the Gerudo. Built into the edifice of the temple sat an enormous statue of the Gerudo Goddess of the Sands. An impressive but imposing piece of work, her cold eyes pierced all who entered the Colossus. She sat with upturned hands, ready to strike anyone who dared to enter the sacred temple.

The familiar sight brought me no fear, but rather lifted my spirits. Pulling up my hood to shield my face, I hurriedly trudged through the sand. My boots—which I had wisely chosen in place of my usual shoes—soon touched solid rock as I rushed into the temple entranceway.

Inside I found myself standing in total darkness, disheartened to see no torches lit. Grabbing one off the wall, I lit it with a wave of my hand and proceeded up the wide stairway. Its flame illuminated the ancient carvings adorning the walls, many of which contained scripture writings and prophesies. Two large serpent-like statues cast dramatic shadows against the stone floor, both bearing prophesies regarding the Imprisoning War—prophesies Link had already fulfilled.

I pressed on through a large corridor, letting my lone torch guide me through the seemingly endless darkness.

_Please_, I silently prayed. _Please let her be here…_

I tried not to consider what would happen if I didn't find her. The thought of returning to the Temple of Time empty-handed was unbearable.

_If you're truly meant to pursue this, she will be here._

Finally I rounded a corner and there, at the end of the smaller corridor, I saw the red glow of firelight.

"Nabooru," I breathed, breaking into a run.

Within seconds I had crossed the corridor and entered the room—where I stopped dead in my tracks, momentarily awed.

Countless candles sat around the entire room, bathing its stone walls in a gentle, soothing light. The sweet aroma of incense filled my nose, calming my thoughts and easing my stance. At the center of everything sat a young woman, deep in meditation. Her long, flaming red hair flowed loosely down her back, free from the high tail she usually wore. Her dark skin, barely covered from the waist up, gleamed in the candlelight.

"Nabooru?"

The woman started, then jumped to her feet and spun around, assuming a defensive stance. Her golden eyes widened at the sight of me, and for a moment she stood there gaping. Then slowly she lowered her arms, her expression softening.

"Either I went too heavy on the incense," she said, "or you're really Zelda Harkinian."


	17. Chapter XVII

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XVII

"Wow. That you had to take such precautions just to visit here is ridiculous."

Nabooru and I sat facing each other on the floor of her meditation room, catching each other up to all that had happened. By now the candles had burned down a ways, and I felt a bit sleepy from the incense.

"That's the least of it, Nabooru," I replied. "I'm far more concerned with the way he's treating your people and the other tribes of Hyrule… Ashton keeps me in the dark, but I've gathered enough to know he's practically begging for civil war."

"Mm. You're the only reason there isn't one already," she murmured. "Though Link intends to stir up something like that—a resistance, he called it."

I lowered my gaze, remembering the similar words Siena had used a while back.

"…_They're recruiting people for an underground resistance of some kind…"_

"Link is actually the reason I've come," I said quietly.

Nabooru met my gaze. "I thought he might be."

"I want you to tell me everything about the time he spent here. Everything, Nabooru."

She shook her head, breathing a heavy sigh.

"All right," she said, "but I won't mince words. The poor kid was starved and covered in dirt when my scouts found him. After we cleaned him up it was obvious he'd been beaten more than once. We found welts and bruises all over his body, but nothing concerned us more than that awful scar…"

A chill slid down my spine as my head snapped up. "Scar?"

"You mean you haven't seen it?" she exclaimed. "That black scar, stretching right over his heart?" She drew a line along her chest with a bejeweled finger.

"You mean from the dagger?" I breathed. "The scar is black?"

"I don't know about any dagger," she said, her golden eyes holding mine. "But Link had—and still has—a black scar on his chest. It looked like it had healed up weeks ago, but the blood around it showed otherwise."

"I knew he had been cut with a strange dagger," I said quietly, "but I never knew about the scar. Link, he…he never told me."

"Doesn't surprise me," Nabooru sighed. "Link tries to pretend it isn't there."

I shook my head, thinking back to our reunion in the East-Side Alleys.

"I'm his wife," I murmured. "He should know better."

"Yes, well, we both know he's always preferred to bear his burdens alone."

I sighed and pulled my braid over my shoulder, fingering it idly. "Tell me about his recovery."

"Well, of course we tended to the poor thing and put him to bed," she told me, "but by nightfall he came down with a terrible fever."

I lifted my gaze back to hers.

"… Fever?" I whispered.

She nodded, her face solemn.

"One moment he was freezing cold, the next he was burning up… He thrashed about all night, sometimes so violently we had to hold him down. And he kept calling your name. For hours he called out for you, apologizing to you over and over…" She trailed off with a sigh. "It was… really hard to see him like that."

I swallowed hard as the image filled my mind—then suddenly it hit me.

_That's exactly what happened to me._

I, too, had succumbed to fever after the bond had severed. I, too, had thrashed about, crying his name again and again…

_At the same time he cried for me._

Tears stung my eyes as I realized just how closely we had been joined to each other. Despite the distance between us, we had felt the connection break; we had suffered the same pain…

_And now we endure the same emptiness._

"Zelda?"

I started, looking up to find Nabooru watching me with a concerned expression.

"…You okay?" she asked me.

"I'm fine," I replied, shaking my head. "It's just a lot to take in. How long did his fever last?"

"About three days," she replied gravely. "But he was still pretty ill when he woke. I was there when it happened, and I'll never forget it."

"Tell me," I whispered.

Again she sighed. "He was…very confused. And very distressed, obviously. It took him a minute to recognize me. Then he grabbed my wrist…" Nabooru reached for my own wrist as she spoke. "His grip was really weak," she added, loosening her hold, "and he could barely speak, but he kept trying to say something…"

"What?" I breathed.

"I could barely understand him, but eventually I realized he thought you were dead, Zelda."

"I thought he was too," I said softly. "Our bond—the connection we've always felt through our Triforce pieces—it's been severed. Link and I haven't sensed each other telepathically for weeks."

"How is that possible?" Nabooru inquired, furrowing her thin red brows. "Link still has his piece…and so do you, I assume."

"I don't know. Neither of us understands it."

"That does explain a lot, now that I think back…" She fell silent a moment, lost in reflection. "I assured him you're still very much alive, of course, but he just… stared at me with this look on his face, like a hundred emotions at once. I thought he didn't believe me, so I told him you were home at Hyrule Castle, safe and sound. I suspected he had been brainwashed," she added softly. "I knew it would take time before he could regain his grasp on reality, but I tried to repeat the same reassurances over and over, hoping they would start to seep in.

"He looked away after a moment, trying to absorb my words, I guess. Then he just… wept," she murmured. "And it wasn't that suppressed kind of crying men try to do," she added. "He literally sobbed over you… over everything, I imagine. I've never seen him so shaken. He was a mess, Zelda; there's no other way to say it."

I lowered my gaze and nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"He stayed at the Fortress about two weeks, then left as soon as he was able. And I mean that in the narrowest sense. I was still concerned about his mental and physical wellbeing, so I asked him to stay at least another week, but he wouldn't have it. He was too anxious to return to Castletown—to be closer to you. He hated being apart from you, and that you had to go on believing he was dead. I don't know what Link's been through, but I do know he should have recuperated with us a bit longer. That kid's more reckless than he'll admit.

"But," she added, adopting a more cheerful tone. "Something tells me you didn't come all this way just to chat about Link. Or to see me."

"I'm always happy to see you, Nabooru," I said, giving her a weak smile. "But it's true I came here for another reason. I… I've been having dreams, visions of Link's imprisonment. I saw glimpses of his torture, and I saw how he escaped."

"How did he do it?"

"The Triforce of Courage. The power woke within him, and it gave him the strength he needed to sever his own chains, attack his captor, and flee the prison. I watched him blast iron doors clean off their hinges, run out of a cave, and climb up the side of a cliff. He literally ran through the desert until your scouts found him."

"Incredible," Nabooru breathed, her eyes wide. "And his captor? Did you see his face?"

"No," I muttered, "he was hooded the entire time. Link threw him directly into a torch, and his robes caught fire, but it's possible he survived. That's partly why I've come."

I leaned forward then, gazing intently into her eyes.

"Nabooru, my visions showed me the location of that cave, and I need to explore it. I need to know if that monster is dead—I need to see it with my own eyes."

"And if he's not?"

My expression hardened.

"Then I'll finish him."

She gave an approving nod, then rose to her feet and noisily stretched her arms.

"Well then, what do you say we put out all my candles here and head back to the Fortress?"

"You mean you'll help me?" I asked, gazing meekly up at her.

She scoffed and placed her hands on her hips.

"Zelda, come on, don't insult me. It would be my honor, and I'm a little more than curious to see this myself. I know you have less than twenty-four hours, so we can quick stock up, grab a team of girls, and be on our way. Hopefully the wind has died down by now."

I smiled and rose to my full height, which barely passed the tip of the Gerudo's characteristically long nose.

"Sounds like a plan."

**xxxxxxx**

The afternoon sun blazed against our backs as we crossed the Haunted Wasteland. Nabooru had brought a company of six additional Gerudo to assist with our mission. _"Just in case,"_ she had told me. Our strong horses thundered through the heat, guided along a marked path by their experienced riders.

Properly armed and equipped with necessities like torches and rope, we plunged into the notorious desert. Clothed literally from head to toe, our tightly wrapped layers protected us from the merciless wind. Only my eyes remained uncovered, and I squinted through the slit in my head cover, longing to see rocky formations rise from the flat horizon.

Despite its blinding rays, I welcomed the sun. I had seen nothing but clouds and rain back at the castle, nothing but damp, chilly air.

Finally the flat desert merged into firmer, rocky ground, and our group quickened our pace as we left the Haunted Wasteland. We rode through the darker terrain in silence, absorbing our surroundings and watching for potential danger.

"This place gives me the creeps," Nabooru muttered beside me, her voice muffled behind her scarf.

I silently agreed. The Gerudo Chasm, our destination, lay not too far ahead. The enormous landform stretched out over the borderline between Hyrule and Tar Alem and basically divided the two nations. One could see the outskirts of the hostile kingdom from our side of the Chasm—far too close for my comfort.

Aside from our proximity to Tar Alem, the desolate landscape inspired a sense of dread, especially when passing through narrow crevices between unusually high cliffs. We had yet to see any evidence of life in this area, and something about the dead silence made me cast wary glances every which way.

"There," Nabooru finally said, pointing ahead. "The Chasm's just up ahead."

I urged my horse ahead of the others, too anxious to heed Nabooru's loud objections. The Chasm soon opened up before me, and I quickly dismounted for a better look.

Carefully I walked toward the edge, momentarily awed by its sheer size. Being far deeper than it was wide, the bottom remained cloaked in shadow, impossible to see from where I stood at the Chasm's peak. Across the gap I saw the edge of Tar Alem. It appeared to be nothing more than a strip of land, but seeing it unsettled me nonetheless.

Nabooru and the others soon caught up to me, and I turned to gather some of the rope from my saddlebag.

"Help me tie these," I called to the others. "I need to drop down over the edge."

"Are you crazy?" Nabooru exclaimed. "You could fall to your death!"

The girls paused, reluctant to act against their leader's wishers. I began tying the ropes myself and cast Nabooru a stern look. "I didn't come here to sightsee, Nabooru. I'll do whatever I must to find that cave."

"Link had the power of the Triforce helping him," she argued. "You have _rope_."

"Genuine Gerudo rope," I reminded her. "The finest in Hyrule."

"True, but that doesn't make this any less dangerous. The Chasm is enormous—you can't just scale the wall until you find the entrance—you could be at it all day!"

"I just want to drop down and have a look."

"Zelda—"

"Nabooru, please. I haven't come this far to fail here. The entrance is close; I know it. Plus I have my magic to save me if anything goes wrong."

She studied my determined face, then sighed. "Fine, let her down," she ordered the girls. "Either way, Link is gonna thrash me when he finds out—then you, Zelda. And the rest of you girls too."

The others exchanged nervous glances but moved to help tie the knots, giving them a few final tugs before carefully lowering me over the edge of the cliff.

"You'd better be right about this," Nabooru called down after me. "I think some of Link's craziness has rubbed off on you—and that's not a compliment!"

I ignored her, focusing on my slow descent as I struggled to scan the surrounding cliffs while clinging to the wall.

_Lower_, my instincts told me. _He climbed further than this._

Gently I tugged on the rope. "Give me some slack," I called up to them. "I want to go lower."

Nabooru shouted something I couldn't quite make out, but I felt the rope loosen. I gradually felt my way down, struggling to avoid looking into the darkened pit below. The rocky wall provided decent guides for my hands and feet, and cautiously I rested my weight on a larger protrusion—

"Aagh!"

I shrieked when the rock gave way, terrified as I slid down the wall at a speed just shy of freefalling. My hands groped for something to catch, but I failed to get a firm grasp on anything. The uneven surface scraped against my layered clothes—which thankfully protected me from any serious harm—until I jerked to a stop, halted by the taut rope.

"Zelda, are you okay?" Nabooru's frantic voice broke through my momentary terror. "Zelda!"

"I—I'm all right," I called once I found my voice. Then I paused to steady myself, clinging to more niches as I took a few calming breaths.

"We're pulling you back up!"

"No!" I shouted, snapping back into my previous determined state. "No, just…give me a minute."

Anxiously I searched the walls on either side, frustrated to find nothing resembling a cave entrance. My leg began to ache, so I shifted a bit, searching for a better niche with my foot. I was startled to find nothing—literally nothing—as my toes searched empty space.

"What…?"

And then it hit me, like a jolt of energy.

I twisted against the wall, forgetting my fears as I excitedly searched the area below…

A narrow ledge stretched out a few feet down, and I just made out a large gap directly beneath my feet.

"I found it!" I cried. "I found the entrance!"

I looked up to see Nabooru already on her way down—supposedly to my rescue.

"You found it?" she called back.

"Yes! Lower me down—there's a ledge just below me!"

The rope slackened some more, and I released the wall, dangling before the cave entranceway as the girls slowly lowered me down. I stared into the ominous darkness, barely able to believe I looked upon the horrid place from my visions.

Finally my feet touched solid ground, and I looked up, watching as Nabooru descended the cliff.

"Well," she said as I helped her onto the narrow ledge. "That wasn't too terrible."

Then she lifted her head up toward the others, shielding her eyes from the sun. I imitated her, barely able to make out the redheads peeking over the edge. They appeared so far away, so high up from Nabooru and me.

"Two of you follow us down," Nabooru called to them. "The rest of you stay put. We'll need help getting back up, especially if we find company inside."

The girls shouted their acknowledgements and Nabooru turned her attention back to me.

"Well, kiddo," she said. "This is it. You ready?"

I nodded and stepped into the darkness, more than prepared to face whatever waited inside. Nabooru pulled out a torch as we moved, which I lit with a wave of my hand.

"Watch your step," I warned her. "Some of these rocks are pretty sharp."

We made our way through the darkness, and anxiously I searched for the doorway leading into the prison. We walked for so long I began to fear I had found a different cave, when suddenly Nabooru stopped.

"What is that?" she asked, holding her torch off to the side. The firelight reflected off what looked like a metallic surface.

"It's…a door," I murmured, removing the scarf which covered my face. My heart began to pound with renewed vigor.

"Blasted clean off its hinges…"

"Come on," I urged, rushing forward. "It's just up ahead."

We soon found the open entranceway and stepped through. By then two Gerudo, Natisha and Keira, had caught up to us. We proceeded in silence for a while, warily passing through a corridor of unnaturally smooth stone.

"What is this place?" Keira asked.

"Our people once kept their most valuable prisoners in underground places like these," Nabooru answered in a low voice. "They experimented on them with different forms of magic."

"They tortured them," I murmured.

"…Yes."

"That makes sense," Natisha murmured, raising her torch to illuminate the rows of cells stretching out on either side before fading into darkness.

"Shh," I raised my hand to shush them. "Listen."

Again we fell silent, and my heart sank as a hushed, eerie groan rose from the shadows.

"ReDeads," Nabooru whispered.

"They're in the cells," I said. "But be on your guard."

We slowly pressed on, keeping our eyes away from the cells as we passed them. We had not gotten far when a ReDead suddenly flung itself against the bars, its dead, gnarled, hand clawing at my face. I leapt back, only to shriek as another swiped at me from the opposite cell. I dropped to the floor, covering my ears as their terrible screams tore through the air.

Despite the horror of having all the warmth and joy sucked from my body, I somehow managed to raise my hand and shot the nearest ReDead with a blast of light. It flew back with a horrid screech, and I turned to blast another. Again and again I did this, crawling along the dirty floor while blindly flinging bursts of light into the cells.

Finally, just as my body threatened to collapse, the screaming stopped. The last ReDead fell to the floor with a groan, twitching there a moment before it lay still.

"Gods," Nabooru spoke first, gasping for breath with the rest of us. "How many _were_ there?"

"Just a few, I think," I replied once I'd found my voice. Shakily I rose to my feet, relighting Nabooru's torch when she rejoined my side. Its flame illuminated a smoking corpse within the nearest cell.

"You okay?" she asked, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "That was a pretty impressive maneuver you pulled there; I barely knew what was happening."

"ReDeads will do that to you," I replied, glancing into the cell. "Vile creatures."

"They've been here the whole time?" Natisha asked in a weak voice. "While Link was here?"

"Yes," I said softly, remembering Link's words back in the East-Side Alleys.

"_He pushed me to the brink of madness…"_

"Come on," I said, anger darkening my tone. "Let's keep moving."

We hurried past the remaining cells, bracing ourselves for the screams that never came. At the end our torchlight caught the outline of a metal doorframe, which we rushed through into another stone corridor. An open doorway stood at the end, and I ran toward it, eager to see what lay inside. Part of me already knew.

Once inside, I slowed to a halt. Nabooru joined me soon after, her torchlight nearly filling the small room. A terrible chill slid down my spine as she illuminated the only visible object—the centerpiece, the room's purpose.

The black altar.

"Zelda, is this…?"

"Yes," I murmured. "Link was tortured here, on this very altar."

I ran my fingers along its cold surface, remembering the way Link had writhed in agony upon it. My hand brushed the broken chains, the only visual evidence of his miraculous escape.

"There they are," Nabooru whispered, bringing her torch closer to inspect the chains, "severed, just like you said."

I nodded, lifting my eyes to scan the rest of the room.

"Look around," I said, struggling to keep my voice even. "There's a chance his captor died here."

Nabooru did as I asked, circling the room to expose four unlit torches, one of which had been knocked to the floor.

"There," I said, disappointment mingling with my fear. "That's the torch Link threw him into."

"There's no sign of a body anywhere," she said.

"Then he's still alive," I whispered.

"Nabooru, Zelda," Keira stuck her head in the doorway, "come take a look at this."

My eyes met Nabooru's.

"Come on," she said. "Maybe he didn't get far."

I followed her out of the room, casting one last look at the lonely black altar before leaving it behind.

Keira led us around the corner, down another shorter corridor, and through another doorway, the only one with a door still attached. I paused the moment I stepped inside, stunned at what I saw.

The room was of decent size but appeared smaller due to the hundreds of items cluttering its space. Dusty furniture, tables, bookshelves, and trunks lined the walls, each filled with books, maps, and other mysterious objects. Bottles of various shapes and sizes stood scattered about the room, some filled with colorful liquids or other obscure ingredients. Weapons ranging from daggers to staffs had been laid out on the tables, thrown into open chests, or hung on the walls.

"It's some kind of…study," I murmured, turning to slowly absorb it all.

"Whoever this man was—or is," Nabooru replied, "I'm guessing he's pretty obsessive about his work. Just look at this place…"

"And he obviously keeps everything here," I added, squinting at the tattered old books on the shelves.

"Hey," Natisha suddenly called, "look at this."

The rest of us crossed the room to gather around a few open books.

"I can't understand the text," she said, "but something is written here." She tapped an open page with her finger. "Maybe you can read it…?"

"Let me see," I said, moving for a closer look. "It looks like…ancient Sheikan," I murmured, furrowing my brow. "Here, give me some more light—"

"You dare trespass into _my_ territory?"

The sound of a deep, sinister voice sent us whirling around. A cloaked figure stood just a few feet away, four knives fanned between his raised fingers.

"You," I hissed.

He flung the knives, and I gasped as we dropped to the floor, barely avoiding them. I leapt to my feet, summoning my magic with renewed fury. With a cry I flung beams of energy toward him, but he fled into the corridor just in time. The far wall absorbed my magic, and I growled in frustration.

"Don't let him get away!" I shouted, flying into hot pursuit.

"Zelda, wait!" Nabooru called.

But I ignored her, whipping around a corner just as another knife whistled past my face. I dropped into a roll, dodging the other knives as they barely missed Nabooru and Keira.

"Coward!" I cried, hurling another blast toward him. "Come and face me! I know what you did to him, you—"

"_Zelda!"_

My words died on my lips as a familiar, masculine voice echoed down the corridor. I was certain I had imagined it.

"Zelda!"

Again it came, louder and clearer, and anxiously I searched the darkness ahead.

"…Link?" I breathed.


	18. Chapter XVIII

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XVIII

The sound of his voice left me so stunned I momentarily dropped my guard. The necromancer attacked again, missing me by mere inches.

"Zelda, stay back!"

Link emerged from the darkness, sword drawn as he flew toward his enemy. "All of you—this fight is mine!"

But he had barely begun his approach before he started slowing down. Alarmed, I watched him struggle forward, moving as though invisible hands held him back. Pain lined his face as he spoke through clenched teeth.

"What… what are you doing to me?"

"Link!" Nabooru and I moved to attack, but the necromancer stopped us with a hand.

"Another step and he suffers."

"Who are you?" I hissed, hoping to distract him. "Why are you doing this?"

He turned away, back toward Link.

"So," he murmured, "it is still affecting you somehow… How interesting."

Again Link tried to attack, but just grasping his sword seemed to pain him. He strained to stay upright, and his ragged breaths echoed across the corridor.

Desperately I searched for a way to help him. Our enemy stood hopelessly outnumbered, yet he held the clear advantage.

"What have you done to him? Answer me!"

Again he ignored me, focusing entirely on Link.

"Obey me," he hissed, raising a hand toward him. I tensed, ready to strike at the first opportunity.

Link gave a frustrated growl and sank to his knees, clutching his head with one hand and his sword in the other. Then slowly he looked up, his face softening with fear.

"Obey me…"

"No…" Link stammered.

_Link… _I stepped closer, longing just to reach him—

"_Obey_ me, servant!"

"_NO!"_

With a strangled cry Link flung his sword away, twisting to release it into the darkness behind him. It faded from sight, landing with a loud metallic _clang_.

I seized my chance, using Link's distraction to hurl flames toward the necromancer. His cloak absorbed my attack as he rushed past Link without a second glance. Link collapsed onto the floor, his body crumpling with pain.

I flew to his side, letting the others rush off in pursuit. Link barely acknowledged me, and with a stab of fear I realized the seriousness of his condition. He began to thrash about, clenching his jaw to suppress his cries.

"Link…" Helplessly I watched him writhe against the floor, his hand clutching his heart. My eyes widened as realization struck. _His scar._

I whipped off his heavy shawl and ripped open his shirt, squinting in the dim torchlight to see—

A gasp tore from my lips.

I had been prepared for the scar—Nabooru had already warned me of its black unsightliness. But what I looked upon could hardly be called a scar. It had changed; it had _grown_. Dozens of thin, arterial lines stemmed from the actual scar, spreading in all directions before thinning and fading from sight.

"Zel…da—"

"I'm here," I whispered, panic choking my thoughts. "I'm right here…"

His breath came in short gasps, ahnd desperately I pressed my hands to his chest, warming them with magic. I could not heal him, but I hoped the heat would lessen his pain. Whether it made a difference, I didn't know, but eventually Link ceased his struggles and lay still, fighting to catch his breath.

"The pain," he gasped. "It's…fading…"

I released a shuddery breath, smoothing back his hair with a trembling hand. My eyes never left his face, and vaguely I grew aware of the others hurrying toward us. Link heard their footsteps and tried to sit up, letting me support him. Nervously he pulled his torn shirt together, covering the black mark as Nabooru knelt beside him.

"He escaped," she said quietly. "Some kind of teleportation. Makes me think he was toying with us the whole time."

"We'll find him," I murmured, caressing Link's back. His tension eased at my touch, though just barely. My own heartbeat had yet to slow back down.

"So what happened to you, kid?" Nabooru asked. "You okay now?"

"I'm fine," he muttered, reaching for the shawl he had used to cover his head. I grabbed it and draped it about his shoulders, covering the tear in his shirt. His fingers brushed mine in silent thanks.

"I can't explain what happened," he said. "I tried to attack him, but somehow my body wouldn't allow it. The harder I tried the more painful it became, and…then there was nothing but pain."

"Has this happened before?" I asked him softly.

He glanced at me, then looked away. "Not like this," he mumbled.

"Don't worry, kiddo," Nabooru said. "We'll figure this out."

I leaned closer, touching my forehead to his temple. "You scared me to death," I whispered.

"It scared me too," he muttered.

"Link, how did you even get here?" Nabooru asked. "We couldn't possibly have left enough of a trail for you to follow."

"I should ask you the same thing," he replied, giving her a sharp look. "What possessed you to come to this wretched place?" Then he turned to me, his eyes meeting mine. "You especially have some explaining to do."

His quiet, weary tone left me more unsettled than shouting would have. Either the incident had left him too shaken for anger, or he lacked the energy to express it.

"As do you," I replied softly, holding his gaze.

Nabooru stood up and glanced around. "We can worry about explanations later," she said. "Right now I say we get out of here. The girls and I will take one last look around while you two go wait by the horses. We'll sort everything out later."

I looked up at her, searching for a reason to argue and finding none.

"Fine," Link muttered. "The sooner we return to the Fortress the better." Slowly he rose to his feet, letting me take his arm to help him up.

"The book we saw," I said to Nabooru. "Could you—"

"I'll grab it, Zelda; don't worry."

"Thank you."

I turned to catch up with Link, who had already gone to retrieve his sword. He quickly found it in the darkness, sheathed it at his waist, and continued walking. I followed in silence, unsure of what to say. We had barely turned the corner when he stopped and took me by the shoulders.

"Why did you come here?" he asked, anxiousness lacing his tone. "Zelda, you know better than this."

"I had to," I murmured. "I'll explain everything when we reach the Fortress. Please don't worry…"

He searched my face, his stern, concerned gaze holding mine.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked in a low voice. "Did he touch you at all?"

"No, Link, you showed up before anything happened."

He studied me another moment, unrelenting as ever, then drew me into a tight embrace. Eagerly I returned it, closing my eyes as a lump formed in my throat.

"I was terrified when I heard you had gone to this place," he whispered. "I followed as fast as I could… I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to you."

"I'm sorry," I whispered back. "I didn't mean for you to find out like this… I never wanted you to step foot here again."

I pulled away then, placing my hand over his heart. "Is it hurting you now? Tell me honestly."

He swallowed and lowered his eyes. "It aches a little—but it's nothing I can't handle."

"I want to look at it more closely when we reach the Fortress, okay? I think you owe me that much."

He nodded, still avoiding my gaze. I touched his cheek, tiptoeing up to kiss him as I slipped my hand into his. He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, letting me lead him out of the dungeon and into the light.

**xxxxxxx**

Our return journey passed without further incident, and we arrived safely at the Fortress around supper time. The Gerudo had already begun preparing some kind of feast to honor Link and me, courtesy of Nabooru and her second-in-command, Aveil. I knew their merrymaking could help lift my spirits, but I didn't much feel like celebrating. I suspected Link didn't either.

I had worried about him the entire way back, casting constant glances toward him to gauge his condition. The moment we stepped outside of the cave I had noted his pale complexion and slower movements with concern. He had quickly hidden any sign of his weariness beneath his headpiece, but I watched him nonetheless.

I had insisted he ascend the cliff first, and he had consented without argument. I was relieved to see him climb without much trouble, but then again the girls pulling the rope above had helped a great deal. He had also ridden slightly hunched over in his saddle, and repeatedly I had fought the urge to ask how he felt.

After passing through the gate separating Gerudo Valley from the Haunted Wasteland, we parted ways to prepare for the feast. Already I could see the Gerudo gathering outside, building their campfires and setting up their instruments. Delicious smells wafted from the Fortress, reminding me how hungry I'd become. But food was the last thing on my mind—my only concern was Link and his ominous scar.

Nabooru headed toward the bathhouse for a "good soak," while Link and I sought the chambers she had assigned to me earlier. To my relief, Aveil had arranged private baths for Link and me, sparing us the more public bathhouse.

I had insisted Link use the bathroom in our chambers while I took the one in the suite across the hall. Once there, I had washed thoroughly but quickly, too anxious to enjoy the soapy warm water.

After braiding my wet hair and coiling it around my head, I slipped on the clothes I'd been given—a loose, silky pink gown which thankfully covered my upper legs and torso. Aveil knew I preferred a more modest style than the usual Gerudo attire. A red sash and matching Gerudo slippers completed my outfit.

Quietly I returned to my room and opened the door, stepping inside before locking it behind me.

Aside from the rectangular tables and cushioned chairs, the spacious room featured many elaborate statuettes, exotic wall décor, and giant rugs featuring bold geometric patterns. The bed, clearly the centerpiece of the room, consisted of silk sheets, plush cushions, and delicate drapes, all various shades of orange.

Across the room Link stood before the vanity mirror, dressed from the waist down as he inspected his scar. His gaze shifted when he caught my reflection, and slowly he turned to face me. Wordlessly I went to him, lifting my hand to touch the dark mark on his chest. Seeing it fully exposed frightened me, but outwardly I remained calm for his sake.

"Does it ache still?" I murmured.

"No."

Gently I traced the dark, arterial lines, lowering my hand when they faded just above his abdomen.

"Is this the first time it's spread?"

He hesitated. "…No."

I pursed my lips, suppressing my frustration. "Had it begun to spread before we last spoke?" I met his gaze, catching the guilt in his eyes.

"Yes—I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said. "I didn't—"

"Want to worry me," I finished. Then, releasing a quiet sigh, I silently moved to the nearby sofa.

"Come sit," I said softly, lifting a hand toward him.

He hesitated but then reached for his shirt, pulling the red garment over his head before sitting down next to me. I took his hand, holding it in both of mine.

"What must I do," I said softly, "before you will stop shutting me out? How many times must I tell you that your problems are my problems? I don't care how much it worries me; I can't bear to be held at arm's length like this."

He gazed back at me, wrestling with his reservations.

"I know we've been apart for some time," my voice softened as I squeezed his hand. "But I'm here now, and I know you're scared. Please, _talk_ to me..."

Again he hesitated, but I had him cornered. Finally he sighed, his eyes leaving my face to stare at the floor.

"All right," he said softly. "There is something you should know."

I waited, stroking my thumb across his knuckles.

"Back in the cave," he began, "I told you I couldn't make myself attack. I told you that the more I tried, the more painful it became."

"Yes…"

"That wasn't entirely true. At first I couldn't attack—my body simply wouldn't do it, and it did hurt to try. But then… I heard voices in my head. His voice, I think, whispering over and over…"

I tightened my grip on his hand. "What did he say?"

Link hesitated, considering his words before meeting my gaze.

"He wanted me to hurt you," he said quietly. "You and the others. The next thing I knew, I was struggling to _not_ attack."

"That's why you threw your sword away," I murmured.

"Yes."

"And the pain worsened…"

"Oh, yes," he whispered. "It was… so similar to the pain I felt back when he tortured me. The more I fought him, the worse it became. Soon all I knew was pain—and you," he looked at me sadly. "I heard your voice; I felt your touch… I held on to that until the pain subsided."

"I wanted so badly to help you," I murmured, stroking his face. "I didn't know what to do…"

"You shouldn't have been anywhere near me." He looked away, but I saw the fear in eyes. "I was so afraid I would hurt you," he whispered. "Zelda, what if I hadn't been strong enough? What if I can't fight it next time?" He shook his head. "I would never forgive myself. Never."

I moved closer and cupped his cheek, turning his face back to mine.

"Listen to me," I told him. "I don't know what he did to you, but I do know you will never, ever hurt me."

He searched my face, then dropped his gaze with a sigh. "I wish I had your confidence."

Before I could reply, a loud knock sounded at the door.

"It's Nabooru; open up."

I furrowed my brow but rose to do so. Immediately she stepped inside, clutching a large book in her arms—the book we had found in the cave.

"I know you guys need some serious alone time, but right now you need to see this."

She plopped down at the nearby table and spread the book open before her. "I've been looking through this book we stole, and unfortunately I couldn't read a word of the actual text. What I could read quite perfectly was a little note here on this page. The language is common Gerudo, nothing mysterious about it."

"What does it say?"

She pursed her lips and met our gazes. "It says, 'Broken Sword, Broken Guard.'"

A chill slid down my spine. "'Broken Sword… Broken Guard?'" My mind reeled with possibilities, and silently I sifted through them, trying to make sense of the ambivalent words. My thoughts revolved around Link, since he obviously had something to do with it…

_Broken Sword, Broken Guard…_

My head shot up as a theory sprung forth, and I turned to Link with widened eyes.

"You don't think he means…The Master Sword?" I breathed. "Could 'Guard' refer to Link?"

"Technically, yes," Nabooru replied. "This could refer to a person—to any kind of defense, really."

"It makes sense," Link murmured. "He had me imprisoned. He obviously wants something from me; maybe it's the Master Sword."

"But how could he possibly know who you are? How could he know about any of this?" My voice rose as I jumped from conclusion to another. "Does he mean to break the Master Sword? To destroy it? He's already tried to break you, Link..."

"He did break me," Link muttered, staring down at his hands. "The Triforce interfered before he could finish whatever he had started."

I studied his profile, searching for a more uplifting response. But all I could hear was the necromancer's voice from my vision.

_"At last, oh _mighty _Hero of Time… you are broken…"_

"Hold on; we don't even know if the Master Sword has anything to do with this," Nabooru said. "I was hoping the text could give us some direction—can you read any of this?"

I reached for the book, sliding it over and smoothing the page.

"It looks like Ancient Sheikah," I murmured, "but I can't decipher it either…"

"Well, that makes no sense," Nabooru said. "You've studied Ancient Sheikah for years…"

"Maybe it's spelled," Link murmured.

I looked at him, then back to the text.

"Yes," I nodded, brushing my fingers across the weathered page. "It could have an illegibility spell upon it… It's not uncommon for older texts, particularly books of prophesy."

"Can you lift it?" Nabooru inquired.

I sighed and shook my head. "Lifting an illegibility spell is no easy task. There's a countless variety of them, and each counter spell is several verses long. I would have to try them all, and I know none by memory. I would have to use books in the castle library for assistance."

"Well, you can't just take this with you," Nabooru said. "Leaving the Temple of Time with a big old book you didn't bring with you might look a bit suspicious."

"I know," I sighed. "I'll have to tear out the page."

Nabooru gasped and clutched her heart in feigned shock.

"_Zelda_ is damaging a valuable old book? This is a dark day indeed…"

"A necessary sacrifice." I shot her a withering look as I slowly tore out the page. "I just hope it will give us some answers."

"In the meantime," Nabooru said. "I suggest you leave the Master Sword where it is, Link."

He shook his head. "I don't need that kind of power to end this war," he murmured. "And I pray I never will."

I tried to meet his gaze, but he avoided me, looking instead at his hands. As the Master Sword's chosen wielder, Link felt, in a way, incomplete without it. Always he heard its call, and always he suppressed the desire to answer. As much as he longed to wield it, the Blade of Evil's Bane was a sword of divine power, meant to be used only when Hyrule faced impending doom. A tyrant like Ashton, a Vandelian without any magical talents, did not pose such a threat.

_But with the necromancer's interference... _

"So tell us, Link, how _did_ you find us out there?" Nabooru then asked. "I'm sure the girls told you we'd gone to the Chasm, but even I can't believe mere fate led you to our exact location. Stranger things have happened, I know, but come on."

Link glanced at her and straightened in his chair.

"I had some assistance," he said. "I sought out the Wasteland poe, he located you, and then he led me to you, simple as that."

"Simple," Nabooru scoffed. "Right. How _do_ you get that obnoxious poe to obey you?"

"I ask nicely."

"All right," she sighed, rising to her feet, "you keep your secrets. I've said all I came to say, so unless you have any objections, I'm going to dinner. Feel free to join us when you're ready. I'm guessing you have some catching up to do first."

"Thank you, Nabooru," I smiled. "You truly are a gracious host."

"You bet I am. But don't feel obligated to stay out long—I certainly don't expect you to waste the night with us."

She winked and headed for the door, shutting it soundly behind her. Link sighed and wearily rubbed his eyes.

"How are you doing?" I asked him, caressing his back. "You must be tired; I can have something brought up for us if you'd prefer…"

"No, no," he shook his head. "I could use a little festivity. But first," he added, taking my hand in his, "tell me how you've been. How did you even get here?"

"Don't worry about me," I smiled. "I convinced Ashton to let me pray in the Temple of Time for one full day and one full night—alone. Once I was there, I teleported here, simple as that."

Link gave a small laugh. "I doubt it was that simple. Deception has always been a talent of yours." Tenderly he stroked my cheek, a fond smile warming his face. "How is Ashton treating you? Has he let you mourn me in peace?"

I shrugged one shoulder. "For the most part. I've been avoiding him whenever possible. There's nothing to tell, Link, really. I'd rather not think about him at all."

It was half the truth, at least. Most of my concerns regarding Ashton were mere suspicions anyway.

"But I want to know how you've been," I said gently. "I hear you've started an underground resistance of some kind. Tell me about it."

He shook his head. "It's still in the early stages. Clef and I have recruited a number of people we believe we can trust, but we still need to figure out how to operate in secrecy. I stay in Castletown to recruit people, disguised as Shade. Then, when I draw unwanted attention, I come here to lie low a while. I can have a good meal or lay my head down without fear of being arrested."

He sighed wearily. "I don't have much to report, I'm afraid. It's a slow and delicate process, but I'm doing everything I can within my limitations. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" I shook my head. "Darling, I didn't expect a progress report… I'm asking as your wife, not your queen." I brought my hand to his face, brushing a few longer strands out of his eyes. "I worry about you…"

He took my hand and held it in both of his. I caught the urgency in his eyes, subtle though it was.

"I don't want you to worry," he said firmly. "I'll make things right again; I promise. I just need a bit more time."

I placed my free hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Link, I have absolute faith in you," I whispered. "Don't you ever doubt that."

His eyes held mine but then dropped down toward our hands, and again I struggled to read him. I wished he could sense my earnestness, but I had only words. Without the bond, I had to trust he believed them.

He brushed his thumb over my wedding ring, breathing a quiet sigh. "I'm sorry I lost mine," he murmured.

"Your ring?"

He nodded. "I'm sure the necromancer took it, though I have no memory of it. Maybe I'll go back to that cave and look for it... someday."

I smiled gently. "You won't have to. I have it. Back at the castle."

He gave me a puzzled look. "You have it?"

"Ashton took it from the necromancer, to help convince me you were dead. I would have brought it with me," I murmured, tracing his ringless finger, "had I known you would be here."

"Next time, then." He gave me a sad smile. "I'm just glad it's with you."

I smiled back, trying not to wonder when our "next time" would come.

"But you still owe me an explanation," he added, regaining his previous worry. "How did you find that cave, and why on earth did you go inside?"

"I saw it in a dream," I murmured. "I saw how you escaped, but I needed to learn more."

His eyes widened. "You saw...?"

I nodded, giving him a proud smile. "You were incredible, Link. You woke the power of the Triforce of Courage and broke free—"

"The Triforce?" Fear lined his face as he pulled away. "I used the Triforce?"

"It was unbelievable. You severed your own chains and threw that monster against the wall—right into a torch. You blasted doors aside, fled the cave, scaled the cliff, and then you kept on running until Nabooru's scouts found you. Your strength and stamina was inhuman."

"Inhuman," he whispered, looking away.

"Link, what you did was amazing. You should be proud to be so gifted…"

He hesitated, clearly drawing no pride or comfort from my words.

"I… It's just hard to believe I did all that."

I studied his profile, knowing his power, which still lay dormant, disturbed him.

_One day he will understand it is a gift._

"Link..." Gently I turned his face back to mine. "I don't know what's happened to you, but I promise we will figure this out. I will not rest until you're free of... whatever this is." I pressed my hand to his heart, over his scar.

He lowered his gaze, worry knitting his brow.

"Everything will be okay," I whispered, softly kissing the corner of his mouth. "Trust me."

He leaned his forehead against mine, breathing a sigh through his nose. "I'm so glad you're here..."

"Me too," I murmured, lacing my fingers with his. "I just wish we had more time."

"Don't think about that," he soothed. "Let's enjoy the time we do have."

"You're right," I said with a smile. "How about we start with dinner and some entertainment?"

**xxxxxxx**

Night had fallen by the time we joined the party. Stars dusted the inky sky, and campfires blazed in all directions, each surrounded by clusters of Gerudo. The sounds of drums and guitars filled the crisp, smoky air, as did laughter. At the center of everything burned the brightest fire, where a pig roasted on a spit. Much of it was already missing as people took their share. Not far from the large fire sat Nabooru, surrounded by her attendants.

"Hey!" she called, her many bracelets jingling as she beckoned us. "Good to see you decided to show!"

She shouted over the music as two Gerudo ushered us over to some cushions at Nabooru's side. Plates of food were thrust into our hands, and celebratory golden crowns were placed on our heads. I smiled at Link, reaching up to straighten his crown, and gently he returned the favor.

Then hungrily I bit into my food, savoring the spiced meat. My eyes moved to the dancers, my jaw pausing mid-chew as I watched. The way they leaped about the flames, twisting their flawless bodies—it never ceased to amaze me. Their wild, exotic forms showed a passion I could never express in the ballroom forms I'd learned as a child. In the past I had often participated in Gerudo dances, eager to learn, but that night I felt no such desire. I was content to relax and watch—to live in the moment and forget what dawn would bring.

Link sat quietly beside me, picking at his food. I spied a few dancers shamelessly flirting with him—just to tease a reaction out of him—but he barely noticed. Inwardly I sighed, wondering how I could lift his spirits.

"Not bad for short notice, huh?" Nabooru shouted. "Hey, where are your drinks? _Aveil, drinks!_" She bellowed in her native tongue._ "Get them drinks!_"

Aveil then shouted something in the opposite direction, and two more Gerudo—just as scantily clad as the rest—rushed over to press goblets of wine into our hands. The Gerudo serving Link lingered to lightly stroke his face.

"Enjoy," she cooed, murmuring a laugh as she pulled away.

Link looked into his goblet, unfazed by the women's affections. I, too, had grown accustomed to such displays; they meant no disrespect. The occasional wink or playful caress was simply the Gerudo way of making people feel welcome—and such gestures were not limited to men. The women enjoyed Link's company perhaps a little too much, but I had no reason to worry.

Still, I did cast an occasional cold look toward the braver, more flirtatious girls.

"_Drink, drink!_" Nabooru urged us, raising her own goblet with a wide grin.

I looked at my own goblet and brought it to my lips, welcoming the warm, spiced liquid. Being well accustomed to strong Gerudo wine, I drank without hesitation. But somehow that particular drink burned more than usual—_far_ more than usual. I nearly dropped my goblet in a sudden fit of coughing, earning hearty laughs from nearby Gerudo. Embarrassed, I quickly wiped my watering eyes, but the feeling vanished when I realized I'd also earned a smile from Link—a _real_ smile.

"Are you okay?" he leaned closer to ask, rubbing my back as I drank the water another Gerudo had offered. "Slow down; there's no hurry…"

"I didn't expect it to be so strong," I rasped. "It's been a while, I guess."

"It feels good, though, doesn't it?" he said. "Warms you right up."

"Like liquid fire," I muttered, still wiping away the last of my tears.

Link gave a soft laugh and kissed my cheek. "Poor thing," he murmured.

We ate in silence, sipping our wine as we immersed ourselves in the celebration. I breathed in the fresh night air, savoring the smell of campfires. The quick strum of guitars and the rhythmic clapping of hands filled my ears. Around us the music wove with the sounds of laughter and rose up toward the stars.

Link wrapped his arm around my shoulders, coaxing me to relax against him. I gladly obliged and snuggled closer.

"I could be so happy right now," I said softly, "if it weren't for everything…"

He leaned his head against mine, and I could almost sense his sadness.

"I always feel rejuvenated when I come here," he murmured. "Their entire way of life is so free-spirited… It's contagious, I think." He sighed and fingered his goblet with his free hand. "Doesn't seem to be working so much tonight, though."

I glanced at our near empty plates, then back toward the Fortress. Lights glowed in a few windows—not everyone felt like partying until dawn. Suddenly I didn't either.

"Come on," I said, setting my goblet aside and climbing to my feet. "Let's get out of here."

He looked up at me and took my offered hand. I helped him up and glanced at Nabooru, not wishing to offend her with our early departure, but she waved us off with a knowing grin. So together we headed back toward the Fortress, leaving the festivities behind.

**xxxxxxx**

We found our way back to our chambers in silence, and despite Link's firm grasp on my hand I sensed an uneasy vibe about him. But I doubted my instincts; nothing was certain without the bond.

When we reached our room he grabbed the knob and held the door for me. I smiled at him and stepped inside.

A warm, welcoming fire had already been lit, casting a soothing glow against the furnishings. Thick candles had been placed here and there, adding to the room's haven-like ambiance. I picked up the faint smell of incense and hoped it would calm my nerves.

Nightclothes, too, had been laid out for us on the bed. Wordlessly I took the gown and went to change in the bathroom—my heart growing heavier as I did. Seeking privacy in Link's presence felt strange, but I couldn't help it. I felt too… unequipped without the bond. His frame of mind remained a mystery to me, and I didn't want to pressure him in any way.

_Or is it you who feels pressured?_

Quickly I buried those thoughts and unpinned my braid, letting it cascade down my shoulder. Grabbing the brush off the counter, I unraveled the strands and slowly combed out the snarls, studying my reflection in the mirror. Soon my hair fell in soft, loose waves, gleaming like spun gold in the candlelight. A rosy tint colored my cheeks—most likely from the wine.

My nightgown hung from my neck, covering my chest but exposing my entire back, arms, and shoulders. The loose, silky material hugged my curves, and the hem barely reached my knees. It was not a cheap look, but it was very _flattering_. My face reddened as I turned away from the mirror, too embarrassed to leave the bathroom.

_Why do I feel this way?_

I had no reason for it. I loved Link; I wanted to look beautiful for him.

_But that's the problem_, I suddenly realized. _I don't _feel_ beautiful. _I hadn't in a long time. A hushed self-resentment had plagued me ever since I'd…

"Stop it," I whispered, moving for the door. _You're being ridiculous._

I stepped into the bedroom to find Link sitting cross-legged on the bed, deep in thought. His nightclothes, a sleeveless shirt and loose pants, left nearly everything to the imagination. Still, I admired how the firelight illuminated his solemn, handsome face. His previously pale complexion had faded back to the usual tanned color, though perhaps he only looked healthier in white clothes.

Either way, my heart quickened at the sight of him. Longing swept through me as I approached the bed, weakening my reservations.

Link looked up, eyebrows raised as he took in my appearance. I smiled gently, blushing under his gentle, captivated gaze.

"You look miles away," I murmured, settling onto the bed beside him. "A rupee for your thoughts?"

He looked down at his hands and sighed. "I was thinking about your vision—about how I escaped. I... I don't see how I could draw such power from the Triforce. I don't know how to use it like that, and knowing I did those things in your vision, well, it just…"

"It frightens you," I said softly.

He nodded, still staring at his hands.

"You have no reason to be frightened by that, Link."

He looked at me then, his brow furrowed.

"Zelda, I had no control of my actions—I can't even remember them! How can you say that shouldn't frighten me?"

"Because the Triforce reflects what is in the heart," I reminded him. "You know this. You've seen it with your own eyes."

Link needed no explanation; he knew I referred to his battle with Ganon during the Imprisoning War. Still he stared at me, wearing his usual guarded expression. I sighed lightly, taking a moment to consider my words.

"Ganondorf stole the Triforce of Power because he desired just that—power. And the Triforce fulfilled that wish. Even after you defeated him, and his tower collapsed, he found the strength to fight you again.

"But what he wanted was evil," I added. "Wanting such power is an ugly thing, and his bestial transformation reflected that."

"What I wanted was evil too," Link argued, anger sharpening his tone. "I _hated _the necromancer for keeping me from you—I wanted him dead!"

"If that was all you wanted, why didn't you finish him? Why didn't you torment him, as he had you? Once he was out of your way, you ran. You left him! How is that evil, Link?"

He hesitated, struggling to find an argument. He would not be so easily consoled.

"Link," I shifted onto my knees and took his face in my hands, "think back and try to remember—what was it you wanted most in that moment you believed I had died?"

He furrowed his brow, visibly resisting his emotions. "I… I wanted to see you again," he burst out, tears glinting in his eyes. "I just wanted to be with you…but I was so… so _angry_…"

"You had every right to be," I whispered, stroking my thumb along his cheek. "Link, the Triforce of Courage can never respond to an evil desire because courage has nothing to do with it! Evil can be fueled by selfishness, ambition, pride, even fear, but never courage. Only honorable choices come from courage. What you felt in that moment was _righteous_ anger. Do you know what fuels righteous anger?"

He gazed back at me, searching for the answer.

"_Love_, Link," I whispered, pressing my hand to his heart. "Your love for me is so strong it woke the power you've kept dormant deep within you. Despite everything you endured, you found the will to fight back, and you thought only of me. Not him, not even yourself. _Me_."

His arms tightened around my waist, pulling me onto his lap.

"Your love saved you, Link," I choked, burying my face against his shoulder. "It brought you back to me…"

I felt him kiss my temple, then my cheek, and I moved to catch his lips with mine. We kissed tenderly at first, easing into our familiar rhythm and filling each other's senses. It was all so much more _physical _without the bond. Link's touch left me near dizzy with pleasure, but something else welled up inside me, something anxious. I could not get _enough_ of him, and my frustration escaped through increasingly ardent affections. Our mouths moved with near frantic passion while our hands clawed at each other's clothes.

"Lie down," I breathed against his cheek, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. Willingly he stretched out against the pillows, barely catching his breath before I covered his mouth with mine. His strong hands caressed my hips, forcing a sigh from my lips before I pressed them to his neck. My wandering hands rememorized his muscled chest and shoulders, still hidden beneath his clothes. Lust clouded my mind, and through the haze I felt Link turn over, pinning me beneath him. He kissed every inch of my exposed flesh, touching me in all the right places, igniting my desire.

But beneath that desire lay darker emotions, unresolved insecurities I had kept buried for weeks. Forcefully they rose to the surface, smothering my ecstasy with a cold wave of shame.

"How can you still want me like this?" I choked.

Link lifted his head, catching his breath while his eyes searched mine. Confusion lined his face, then softened with realization. I looked away, unable to meet his sad gaze.

"I'm sorry," I struggled to speak over the tears building in my throat. "It's just that… being with you like this again, I… It all comes rushing back, and I—I can't…"

My words dissolved into quiet sobs as Link pulled me up into his arms. I clung to him, releasing my pent up grief while he rubbed slow, soothing circles along my back.

"I'm sorry," I said again, my voice trembling, "I thought I had moved past this…"

"Of course you haven't," he murmured. "You've had to bear this alone, without Impa, without me... You haven't had a chance to heal—not with Ashton suffocating you…"

"At least I had a bed to lie in," I choked. "All you had were crowded inns and that freezing back alley shack—"

"Darling," Link took my face in his hands, forcing my eyes to his. "We could argue about who suffered worse until dawn... Why do you feel ashamed when I touch you?"

"Because..." The tears came again, and gently he thumbed them away. "You've done so much for me, Link... You chose to share this difficult life with me, and all you've ever wanted is a family. For two years you've waited, and now I've..." I swallowed, my voice falling to a whisper. "...I've failed you."

"You have never failed me," he murmured. "All I've ever wanted is you—_you_ are my family. Nothing will change how I feel about you, even if we never have children."

His last words stuck harder than he intended, and my face contorted as I fought not to cry.

"Sweetheart, no..." Quickly he embraced me, holding me to his chest. "That doesn't mean we won't," he soothed. "We still have time... We can always try again."

He kissed the top of my head and lay me down against the cushions, pressing more kisses to my cheek, my eyelashes, my lips... I reveled in his tenderness, willing myself to forget everything but him—if only for a short time.

"We can try tonight," I breathed.

Link met my gaze, his blue eyes searching mine.

"Only if you're ready," he murmured, stroking my hair back from my face. "I never meant to pressure you. I'll wait as long as you need."

"I know you would," I whispered. "But I am ready. After everything that's happened, I—I need this… I need _you_."

He kissed me again—tenderly, desperately. "Are you sure?" he softly asked, concern lining his brow. "Don't do this for my sake."

I nodded, bringing my arms up around his neck. "Please, Link, don't hold back. Please…"

He lowered his face to mine, seizing my lips in a more heated kiss. I fingered his shirt, tugging the laces with playful impatience. He ignored me a few kisses longer, smiling when I murmured in protest. Obediently he sat back to pull the garment up over his head, letting me run my hands up his abdomen and along his chest. I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of his muscles—until my fingertips brushed his exposed scar. My eyes met his, and I saw his shame deep within them.

Unfazed by the ugly mark, I sat up and straddled his lap, grabbing his face to kiss him deeply. Our mouths warred for dominance until he broke away with a gasp, kissing my neck between labored breaths. I tipped my head back, blindly raking my fingers through his hair. Then I felt him grasp the sides of my nightgown and quickly reached up to help him pull it off. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he cast the gown aside, burying my face into the slope of his shoulder and inhaling his familiar scent.

But my previous anxiousness came creeping back, slipping in between each wave of pleasure and welling up in my chest. My feelings for Link remained strong as ever, but the more passionate we became the more I sensed something was _missing_...

_The bond._

I could not ignore its absence. After all, Link and I had been telepathically bound ever since we acquired our Triforce pieces as children. Through the years that bond had strengthened with our love, becoming as natural for us as breathing. Our wedding night had taken everything to an new plane, far beyond the mere consummation of our marriage. By surrendering to each other entirely we had shattered some final barriers deep within our minds. Communicating without words became the least of our gift. Link and I discovered we could sense each other's presence; we could _feel _each other's soul. With that came the ability to share our emotions: joy, sorrow, pain, pleasure—everything. That night we had found ourselves more intimately bound than we ever dreamed possible_._

And now we felt nothing. Even our telepathy had been lost.

"It's our first time again," I murmured. "In some ways..."

Link smiled against my cheek, but I knew it was a sad smile. "You'll have to guide me a bit," he murmured. "I feel a little blind without the bond."

I laughed softly, bringing a hand to his cheek. "I doubt I'll find a reason to complain."

"Well, in case you do," he replied, easing me down onto the bed, "you let me know."

I sighed as he kissed me, running my hands along his back. Repeatedly I found myself searching for his emotions, hoping to uncover them somehow. I longed to feel his pleasure, to sense it mingling with my own.

"I wish I could feel you..."

My eyes snapped open, and I felt my face heat. I hadn't meant to speak the words aloud.

Link paused, then kissed my throat. "I know," he whispered. "I miss it too."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to—"

"Don't be sorry. I understand."

"No, it isn't like that, I..." I gazed up at him, struggling to find the right words. "Link, I am so thankful to have you, to be here with you…"

"I miss the way we used to be," he said softly. "I miss having _all_ of you."

"But you do have all of me... Everything I can give is yours…"

Link stroked my face, giving me another sad smile. "I know, darling. And I know we don't need the bond." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing mine. "I can show you how much I love you... and that's enough for me."

Thus began our night of healing, of reclaiming each other, husband and wife. We clung to each other, our bodies perfectly fitted, our limbs tightly entwined. By the time we fell asleep we had forgotten our pain, our grief... and even the bond.


	19. Chapter XIX

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**Fortitude**

Chapter XIX

I woke to find myself pressed up against Link's body, nestled in the crook of his arm. My head lay against his chest, my hand resting near his shoulder—over his scar. Happily I snuggled closer to his warmth, reveling in the touch of his hand on my hip. For a while I was content to lay there and listen to his rhythmic breathing. The sound had always brought me comfort, as did the beating of his heart. I soon felt myself drifting back into the hazy realm of sleep but forced myself awake, not wanting to waste our precious little time together.

Link, however, showed no sign of waking. He slept on, oblivious to the soft kisses I trailed up toward his throat. I smiled sadly, longing for the days I greeted every morning with him.

Not that I would call the hour morning. Darkness still veiled the room, though I feared little time remained before someone came to wake us. The Vandelians guarding the Temple of Time would come for me after dawn; I could not afford to be late.

I pushed those worries aside, determined to savor every last moment with Link. I gazed at his peaceful face, tenderly stroking his hair away from his forehead. Just thinking about the recent hours we had shared roused my desire for him. Softly I kissed his lips, moving up along his cheek, and finally he began to wake. His hand slid up my back, caressing me as I kissed him. He kept his eyes closed, but a smile tugged at his lips.

"Morning, Sleepyhead," I murmured. "You awake?"

He mumbled in response, his eyes barely opening to reveal blue slits. A brighter smile lit his sleepy face as reached for my cheek. I leaned into his touch, returning his smile before pressing a more fervent kiss to his barely responsive lips—

_THUMP. THUMP. THUMP._ The jarring sound of a fist beating the door brought our affections to an unpleasant halt.

I sighed and pulled away, reluctantly detangling myself from Link and leaving the warmth of our bed. The chilly morning air nipped at my skin, and hurriedly I slipped on one of the two robes provided for us. Then I moved for the door, raking my tousled hair back away from my face before pulling it open. Behind it stood Nabooru, dressed in a robe colored the same brilliant red as her hair.

"You didn't have to knock so hard," I whispered—more sharply than intended.

"Sorry, I had to make sure you heard me." She tilted her head then, her golden eyes studying my face. "How are you doing? You okay?"

"No," I muttered, looking away and crossing my arms. "I'm not."

"Didn't you two sleep comfortably?"

I gave her a dry look. "You know that's not what I mean."

She nodded with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Zelda. I can only imagine how you must feel right now."

I nodded, too sick with dread to say much. "I have to change. Come back in fifteen minutes?"

"Sure thing, kiddo."

I thanked her and closed the door, turning to see Link sitting up in bed. He had lit a few candles with magic, and I caught subtle traces of worry in his otherwise calm face.

"Is it time?" he asked, his voice low from lack of use.

"Almost," I murmured, sitting on the bed beside him.

He took my hand, stroking my knuckles as he studied my profile. Neither of us bothered to speak; words would not ease our sorrow. I stroked his fingers in return, rebuilding the old walls I often kept around my heart. I would need them firmly in place before I returned to the castle, to my duties as Queen.

"I have to change," I then said, turning to meet his gaze. "You lay here and rest."

I stood to leave the bedside, only to stop when Link held on to my hand. Gently he pulled me back, and with a sigh I sank onto the mattress, letting him gather me in his arms.

"You're not making this any easier, you know," I murmured.

He smiled gently, kissing my shoulder as my robe slipped down my arm.

"And how can I do that?" he inquired, nuzzling my throat.

I closed my eyes and swallowed, finding the strength to resist him.

"By letting me get dressed," I whispered, removing his arms and pulling away.

He let me go, and quickly I distanced myself from the bed, struggling to ignore the terrible ache in my chest.

My clothes sat on the sofa, neatly folded but unwashed. I was supposed to have spent the past twenty-four hours in them after all. I dressed quickly to avoid wasting time—I did so right in the bedroom, no longer caring if Link saw. I was relieved to feel this way, but leaving him wouldn't be any easier.

Gathering my hair over one shoulder, I reached back and struggled to fasten the row of buttons along my spine. I attempted this a couple of times and failed, my frustration building as I moved my arms in different ways.

Then a pair of hands brushed my waist, startling me a bit.

"Here, let me," Link murmured, his breath warming my ear.

I waited as he buttoned my gown, taking slow breaths until my frustration faded. Once finished Link tentatively slipped his arms around my midriff and pressed his cheek to mine, breathing a quiet sigh. I leaned into his embrace, swallowing hard as I rubbed his arms.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked him when I found my voice.

"I did," he murmured. "I haven't slept so well since… everything. Since our last night together, really." He tightened his hold, burying his face against my shoulder. "That feels like ages ago."

I closed my eyes, struggling to keep my emotions at bay. Time felt suddenly too fast, ending our reunion before I could prepare myself to leave.

_As if I ever could._

"I don't want to leave you," I whispered. "More than anything I wish I could stay."

"I know, darling," he answered softly. "I wish I could keep you."

I turned in his arms, reaching up around his neck and kissing him ardently. He had barely begun to respond when another sharp knock jolted us from our reverie. Link sighed and leaned his forehead against mine.

"I'll get it," he muttered, slowly pulling away.

I moved for the vanity, grabbing the brush and running it through my hair. In the mirror I saw Link tighten his robe to hide his scar before opening the door.

"My, my," Nabooru's voice drifted from the hall, "aren't you a sight for sore eyes." Link gave a light sigh and stepped aside to let her in.

"Well, kiddo," she said, giving me a sympathetic look, "I hope you've made the most of your time, because it's nearly run out."

"I know," I answered, staring into the mirror as I braided my hair.

"Do you have everything you need?" Nabooru inquired. "Your cloak, the Ocarina? The page from that book?"

I turned to face her, gripping the edge of the vanity as I leaned against it.

"It's all there on the table," I muttered.

"You sure you want to do this?" she asked, her voice softening. "You are welcome to stay, as long as you need."

My eyes met Link's, but he quickly dropped his gaze, knowing it was impossible.

"I appreciate that, Nabooru," I murmured, "but I have no choice. I have to go back."

She sighed. "I'm sure you're right. Well then bring yourself over here and give me a hug."

I did so gladly, and her perfumed scent filled my nose as she gave me a light squeeze.

"Thank you for everything," I told her. "None of this would have been possible without you."

"Eh," she shrugged when we pulled away, "considering the reason for our little adventure, I'm pretty sure you would have found a way with or without me."

"Well, it would have been far more difficult without you. And you've been wonderfully hospitable—I felt far more at home here than at the castle."

Nabooru's full, unpainted lips curved into a sly grin. "I think your husband there had more to do with that than me," she said, tilting her head toward Link.

I turned to him then, feeling my previous dead come crawling back. "How long until you return to Castletown?" I asked him.

"I don't know," he answered quietly. "At least a week—I need to lie low a while, and I plan to visit Darunia before I return. Considering how cautiously I have to travel these days, well, I really don't know how long it'll be."

My heart sank as I digested his words—then an idea struck. Quickly I moved to the table holding my belongings and pulled the Ocarina of Time from the folds of my cloak. Then I turned back to Link, holding the instrument in both hands.

Back when we had courted in secret, Link and I would often use the Ocarina and teleport to more secluded places—particularly the Lost Woods. We had discovered that if we held on to each other tightly, we could both teleport at the same time. We longer needed such secrecy after our engagement, but our life together was anything but private. The Woods or Lake Hylia still provided the perfect setting for an occasional escapade.

"I want you to take this," I told him. "We can both teleport to the Temple of Time, and then you can warp back to the Colossus. Please, Link, you need it far more than I do."

I held it out to him, and a faint sense of déjà vu swept through me as I met his azure gaze.

But Link did not move to take it. Instead he gave me a sad smile.

"No, Zelda," he said softly. "You keep it."

"Link—"

"Zelda, please, knowing you have this—that you have a way out—is the only reason I can sleep at all." He moved closer then, gently pushing the Ocarina back toward me. "I need you to keep it."

I searched his face, caught somewhere between fear and relief.

"But traveling is so dangerous for you," I whispered. "How will I know you're safe?"

"I'll be all right," he soothed, stroking my cheek. "I'm not alone. I have people like Nabooru looking out for me. You are alone at the castle, Zelda. Taking the Ocarina would trap you there, and I won't do that."

I lowered my gaze, clutching the Ocarina in my hand.

"Okay," I whispered.

"All right, Zelda," Nabooru spoke up. "Give me one more hug, and then I'll leave you two to say goodbye."

I did as she asked, knowing my time was quickly running out. When we pulled apart she took my face in her hands, studying me as she brushed a manicured thumb across my cheek.

"I'll be watching and listening," she murmured. "Take care of yourself, you hear me?"

I nodded, giving her a weak but genuine smile. "Thank you."

She smiled back and pulled away, touching Link's shoulder as she made her way out of the room.

My eyes met his as the door closed behind her, and for the umpteenth time in our young lives we rushed into each other's arms, struggling to say goodbye. We clung to each other, failing to voice our feelings as the silence closed in around us. Link felt so tense in my arms, and tenderly I caressed his back, knowing it would not soothe him. Soon I would leave him, and there was no knowing how long we would remain apart.

"I'll decipher that page as soon as possible," I whispered. "I'll learn as much as I can; I'll do whatever I can to help you…"

"Don't you worry about any of that," he murmured. "You have enough to deal with. You just keep being the strong and brilliant queen I know you are, and I'll take care of the rest."

"It's you I worry about," I replied, burying my face against his shoulder. Gently I pressed my hand to his chest, my fingertips brushing the raised scar beneath his robe. "I want to know what—"

I stopped midsentence, pulling away as a terrible thought struck me like a blow to the stomach._ The necromancer…_

"He knows," I whispered. "He _knows_. How could I not see it? The two are working together—he'll tell Ashton that you're alive!"

Link stared at me, and for a moment I thought he would panic. But then he simply turned away, remaining remarkably calm.

"The thought already occurred to me," he sighed, sitting down on the sofa. "It doesn't matter now."

It took every ounce of my self-control to keep from shouting.

"What do you mean it _doesn't matter_?" I stammered. "Ashton wants you dead!"

"I know," he replied. "But this was bound to happen. Your three months of mourning are nearly spent; I would have revealed myself soon anyway. I realize it is a bit premature, and Ashton will know I'm here, so Nabooru gave orders to take down the bridge. The Gerudo are untouchable without it."

I gave a loud, humorless laugh. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. So you knew this whole time and said nothing?"

"There's no point in discussing it," he shrugged. "It changes nothing."

I stared at him. "How can you say that? The last time we met you told me your survival depends on secrecy!"

"And it did. But things have changed since then. I've been prepared for this, Zelda."

"I don't think you understand how incredibly dangerous this is."

"Of course I do, but it's inevitable. I am the only thing standing between you and Ashton. He can't force you into marriage if you're still wed to me. I _want_ him to know I'm alive."

I closed my eyes, struggling to keep my exasperation in check.

"Don't be ridiculous—what good is our marriage if you're dead? And do you really believe this will stop him? He's King, Link; he can pull whatever strings he wants!"

"He cannot force you to break a vow of marriage," he said with hushed fervor, his blue eyes meeting mine. "You wouldn't do that."

_To me._ His words hung in the air, unspoken but still present. Inwardly I sighed, feeling a strong tug of sorrow.

Deep down, Link knew I would never abandon my duties for the sake of our marriage—it was too great a sin. In order to thrive, Hyrule demanded a ruler blessed by the gods. Any alternative would result in disaster—gradually or steadily, depending on who took the throne, but still inevitably. Link and I shared a pure but star-crossed love. The gods had brought us together from opposite ends of society, and only someone like Ashton could force our worst nightmare upon us—the choice between duty and desire.

Link hoped the Council would try to interfere. A royal annulment was more than scandalous—to break a sacred vow of matrimony was to defy the will of the gods.

I did not share his hopes; I knew it would not be so simple. But I didn't voice these thoughts; broaching such a painful subject would only hurt him. I would cross that bridge when I reached it.

"Well, then why should I bother with secrecy?" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. "Ashton will know I've been here."

Link remained silent a moment, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"There's a chance he won't tell Ashton," he said quietly. "The man obviously wants me alive, and Ashton wants me dead. Keeping this to himself might work to his advantage."

I fell silent, allowing myself to calm as I considered his logic.

"You're right," I sighed, moving to sit down beside him. "He could keep quiet."

Still, I felt far from comforted. Link remained in potentially grave danger, and there was nothing I could do to help him.

_Unless…_

I turned to him then, taking his hand and willing him to see my desperation.

"Link, I beg of you," I pleaded, my voice hushed with urgency, "come with me and take the Ocarina. It could be the difference between life and death for you. _Please_."

He shook his head and turned away. "No, Zelda. I won't do that."

"But the bridge is down," I argued. "How will you leave?"

"I'll descend the cliff and follow the river to Hylia. I've done it before."

"But…but if Ashton finds out he'll have guards stationed all over the area—"

"I'll take the portal to Zora's Domain."

Panic welled up inside me and I rose to my feet, grasping for more excuses.

"But…But how will you accomplish anything with every soldier in Hyrule after you?" I choked, failing to keep my voice even. "Link, if you're captured—"

He stood and pulled me into his arms, silencing me with his embrace.

"Shh, darling, listen to me," he soothed. "There are other places I can hide, other people I can rely on. And Hyrule has plenty of portals I can use to travel about. You don't have that luxury. You would be trapped without the Ocarina, and I won't allow that."

I sighed and tightened my arms around his waist, knowing he would not change his mind.

"When Ashton does find out about me," he said, adopting a more serious tone, "be it now or later, you do whatever you must to protect yourself. Use your most powerful magic if necessary."

I nodded against his chest, closing my eyes as he stroked my hair. We stayed like that a minute, clutching each other as the minutes ticked by. Outside the dark sky had turned a shade of violet, streaked with pale rose clouds.

"The sun's coming up," Link said softly. "It's time."

Reluctantly we broke apart, and he quickly moved to grab my belongings.

"Here," he murmured, placing my cloak around my shoulders. "Do you have your page?"

I felt in my pocket, nodding when my fingers brushed the folded parchment. He took my hand and placed the Ocarina in my palm, closing my fingers around it. Then he reached for my cheek, and our eyes met before he pressed his lips to mine. We kissed tenderly at first, held back by sadness until Link pulled me flush against him. I parted my lips, weakening in his arms as he deepened the kiss. We made the most of those last few moments, though they passed far too quickly.

"Go now," Link breathed when we finally parted, "before it's too late."

I swallowed and nodded, struggling to stay strong. He stepped back to give me space, and I caught the glint of tears in his eyes.

"I love you," he said. "No matter what."

I tried to smile for him, blinking back my own tears.

"I love you more."

Then I raised the Ocarina to my lips—never had it felt so heavy in my hands—and softly played the Prelude of Light. The Ocarina's magic surrounded me, bathing me in gentle golden light. My eyes met Link's, bidding him a silent farewell before the room fell away.

.

When I opened my eyes, I looked upon the familiar, towering walls of the Temple of Time. The chamber stood silent as a tomb, save the gentle crackling of the enchanted torches. I stayed still a moment, absorbing the abrupt change and preparing myself for whatever came next. My fears closed in around me, weighing me down. From there on I would find no comfort, no one to turn to…

It was like Link said: I was very much alone.

Slowly I sank to my knees, letting my tears well up inside. They stung my eyes and blurred my vision, but I hurriedly blinked them away.

_Get a hold of yourself. You can't fall apart now._

Quickly I pulled out the scrap of cloth I had used to tie the Ocarina against my thigh, securing it there once more. Then I lifted my hand and dispelled the barrier I'd placed against the door.

Slowly I rose and turned to face the Altar of Time, walking the narrow red carpet leading to it. Pausing before the dark stone, I lay my hand against the engraved notes of the Song of Time.

"Thank you," I whispered, closing my eyes.

A few moments passed before a muffled sound came from outside the heavy double doors. I opened my eyes just as they opened at the opposite end of the chamber.

"Finish your prayers," a guard called to me. "Your time is up."

I turned to face him, tightening my cloak about my shoulders before stepping away from the Altar. Wordlessly I moved toward the door, exiting the temple with my head held high. They closed the doors and fell in step around me, escorting me back through the town square.

I was glad to pass through the market at such an early hour – the place was nearly empty. Still I pulled my hood up, avoiding the few stares that did follow me. Our group strode through the square in silence, and I kept my head down, lacking my usual urge to admire the various shops and stalls in the area.

Soon the market faded into the distance as we approached the gates leading into the castle grounds. The guards moved to let us in, and I reached back to drop my hood—I felt no need to hide my face there.

My eyes swept over the beautiful white spires of my home, but the sight brought me no joy. Gentle birdsongs filled the brisk morning air, but the usual grey clouds blanketing all of Castletown still hid the sun's rays. Briefly I wondered if the birds missed the sunshine as much as I did.

In the distance I spied Ashton's dark figure standing before the castle entranceway, his hands clasped behind his back. He clearly waited for me, and I felt his watching eyes. A chill slid down my spine, and my heart began to pound as I drew closer. This was it—the moment of truth. If Ashton knew about Link he would waste no time dancing around the issue.

As the guards led me up the wide stairway leading into the castle, I finally met Ashton's emerald gaze. He flashed me a smile—his seemingly charming, arrogant smile—and inwardly I felt some relief. He would have found no reason to smile if he knew about Link.

"And my flower returns," he said, spreading his arms as though to embrace me.

I remained standing on a lower step, eyeing him coldly.

"So," he said, shifting his attention to the head guard, "any complications to report?"

"None, my Lord. Everything proceeded as you ordered."

"Excellent," Ashton grinned, clasping his hands. "And how about you, dearest? Feeling spiritually renewed?"

I climbed the last few steps and paused before the open doorway. We stood on equal ground then, and I gave him a slow sidelong glance.

"Completely."

Then I strode into the throne room, my heart pounding against my ribs.

_He doesn't know. He wouldn't play games—he'd be too angry. He would want answers immediately. He doesn't know._

Despite my flood of observations, a small trace of doubt remained. Ashton had become rather unpredictable since he seized power. Could his ever-growing confidence enable him to acknowledge Link's survival without flying into a rage?

It was difficult to imagine. Only time would tell.

I had taken only a few steps into the throne room when Lady Renae came rushing toward me, her face bright with enthusiasm.

"Good morning, your Majesty," she beamed, falling in step beside me. Two guards followed behind her, joining the two that already followed me. As Ashton's eyes and ears, they constantly shadowed the ministers and me.

"How are you feeling? Do you think the Devotion brought you into closer commune with the Blessed Sisters?"

Her words brought a small stab of guilt, but only because I hated to deceive her. The gods had meant for me to experience what I had in the desert; I had no regrets.

"Yes, I…I feel I've minimized the spiritual detachment I've been struggling with," I told her. "I hope I can one day perform the Devotion as it was meant to be done."

It was the truth, more or less.

Renae smiled. "That would be wonderful. Though I'm sure the gods are pleased with your efforts, considering your limitations. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Thank you but no," I smiled. "All I need right now is some rest."

"Of course, your Majesty. Let us continue this conversation at a later time. Sleep well."

We parted ways at the grand stairwell, and I proceeded up toward my chambers. I did intend to take a morning nap—I had slept very little the previous night.

Attendants bowed as I passed by, but I barely noticed them. I felt too tired, too tense, too filled with uncertainty. The corridors seemed longer than usual, their polished walls and floor patterns endlessly repeating. The portraits began to look alike, and the tall windows each featured the same dreary view…

Finally I reached my chambers, and the two guards quickly took their positions on either side of the double doors. I entered without a word and noisily clicked the lock.

"Welcome back, my Lady!"

I jumped, startled to find Heather already there in the room. Hurriedly she moved to take my cloak, and my hand flew to the small pocket on my gown. I sighed, relieved to feel the page still there.

"Was your Devotion a success?" Heather asked. "Do you feel restored in any way?"

I smiled, comforted by her warm, cheerful demeanor. "Yes, I think so."

"Shall I prepare a bath for you?"

"No, I'd like to lie down and rest a while."

She nodded. "All right, is there anything I can bring you?"

"No, thank you. Why don't you take the morning off and come wake me around midday?"

"All right, my Lady. You must be very tired, having stayed up all night to pray."

Inwardly I cringed, feeling another prick of guilt. "Yes, well…even I dozed off a little."

Heather smiled. "Oh, I'm sure you did, being in such a quiet and peaceful place like the Temple of Time. I'll just quick prepare your bed for you, and then I'll go."

"Thank you, dear."

Heather blushed at the more affectionate term and entered the bedroom while I stepped into the bathroom to change into something more comfortable.

She was gone when I entered the bedroom, and I saw she had closed the curtains for me. She had also pulled back the covers and refilled the water pitcher at my bedside. I smiled gently, appreciating her thoughtfulness as I slipped beneath the sheets. The bed felt wonderfully soft but cold, and immediately I missed Link's warm presence. My thoughts remained with him as my head sank into the freshly fluffed pillow, and within seconds I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**xxxxxxx**

Sunlight filtered through the polished windowpanes, spilling onto the floor and illuminating tiny dust particles drifting through my study. I sat behind my desk, both unsettled and astonished at the sight before me.

My desk was clear.

The papers were gone; I had finally caught up… because I no longer received anything new. The paperwork all went to Ashton now. He, with the High Council's advice, made all the decisions I used to make. I had surrendered my authority to Ashton the day he stormed my castle. He intended to keep me in the dark until I became his wife—and I intended to avoid that for as long as possible.

But time was not on my side. My official mourning period was nearly over, and Link would soon reveal himself either way… His plan to do so still aggravated me. The necromancer had apparently chosen to keep Link a secret, since Ashton remained as cheerful as ever. Still, I could be forced into marriage either way; _why _did Link insist on jeopardizing himself in the process?

"_I am the only thing standing between you and Ashton… I _want_ him to know I'm alive."_

Irritably I massaged my temples, struggling to clear my head. Pondering the dark days ahead only left me sick with worry.

My attempts to decipher the torn page had so far failed. For the past week I had spent every evening chanting spells and staring at the ancient text. I had been careful to limit my visits and the number of books I borrowed to avoid suspicion. Progress had proven slow and frustrating—I had studied a third of our spell books and still the page remained unreadable.

A timid knock interrupted my thoughts, and warily I turned toward the door.

"Come in."

The door opened to reveal Renae, much to my relief. A stern-faced Vandelian guard followed her inside and closed the door, standing watch as she approached my desk. Like the rest of the council, she was forbidden to see me without a chaperon.

"Lady Renae," I said, offering her a smile. "Please, have a seat."

She returned the smile, but it did not reach her eyes. "Thank you, your Majesty."

I studied her slender, almost frail appearance—her graying brown hair, the smile lines in her aged face. She had retained a sophisticated beauty in her later years, but that morning she looked unusually worn and weary.

"How can I be of assistance?" I asked her, my calm voice betraying none of the eagerness her visit brought me.

She sighed softly, then lifted her pale blue eyes to mine. "I've come to speak for the people of Hyrule."

My heart lurched. _Of course. Their way of life has been steadily declining; surely they have nothing but complaints for me._

"Of course I will hear what they have to say. Should I be glad you are speaking on their behalf?"

"It's nothing like that, your Majesty," Renae answered gently. "It concerns Prince Link."

This time I failed to hide my shock.

_Could they possibly know? No, it can't be; I would have heard about it. Unless…are there rumors? Did Link reveal himself already?_

"What of him?" I whispered.

She gave me a compassionate look, mistaking my panic for grief.

"Well, you see, they…" She trailed off, carefully choosing her words. "It's been so long since Prince Link was captured in battle, and Lord Ashton has declared him dead…"

I furrowed my brow, both confused and relieved by her words. _So they don't know?_

"The people want a ceremony to honor his life… and death," she said quietly. "They want a funeral."

I stared at her, momentarily unable to react. "A…funeral?"

She nodded gravely.

"But… But we have no body," I argued, thoroughly uncomfortable with the idea. "We have no evidence that he isn't still alive."

"Your Majesty," Renae said gently, "the people no longer need evidence… Prince Link has been missing for months now… Most believe him to be dead."

Again I stared, struggling to come up with some excuse. My lips parted to speak, but I dropped my gaze and looked away, somewhat overwhelmed.

"The people loved him, your Majesty," Renae continued, her voice hushed with sorrow. "They need to mourn him properly… They need to _honor_ him. I know this is difficult for you to hear… but you must have known this would happen sooner than later."

I shook my head, still gazing toward the floor.

"Ashton will never allow it," I murmured.

"Forgive me, your Majesty, but I've already discussed the matter with him. He's allowed me to arrange a small service in the Temple of Time. He believes it will provide closure for our people…and for you," she added, watching my face closely.

I looked at her sharply, then breathed a quiet sigh. "I see."

Of all the news I had expected, a funeral had never entered my mind, and her request had sparked a private battle within me. The thought of attending Link's funeral disturbed me, but, on the other hand, a funeral could only help maintain his secrecy. I also realized that refusing my people's demands would reflect unfavorably upon me. Many might suspect I had succumbed to denial or some other weakness.

It would be strange to refuse; logically I had no real choice in the matter.

_I must comply with their wishes. It's the least I can do right now._

"If the people desire a funeral," I then said, lifting my sad gaze to Renae's, "then they shall have it."


	20. Chapter XX

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XX

Nearly another week passed before the funeral took place. By Ashton's orders the ceremony had been kept small, and no official announcement had been made. The news had spread by word of mouth alone, but I knew half the town would attend, if not more.

Dressed in a more extravagant black gown, I stood with my seven ministers and several Hylian guards—no Vandelians would attend this ceremony. I half-expected Ashton to appear, just to rub it in my face, but fortunately he remained absent.

Above us stretched a cloudy, dreary sky—suitable for the occasion—and a cold breeze rustled my long black veil. The Council and I had arranged a procession from the castle to the Temple of Time, where a crowd of nobles and soldiers awaited us with the casket. Renae led the way, followed by Kinsley and Pierson. I stood alone at the center. Behind me came Vasilis and Elena, followed by Matteus and Timothus. Each minister wore dark robes and held tall, white candles in golden holders. I carried a bouquet of white lilies.

As we began our slow, steady walk toward Castletown, I found myself thinking how strange the procession felt without Impa beside me. She had been my protector and guide all my life; we had not been separated for so long since I was fifteen. I'd been missing her for months, yet that morning I felt her absence more sorely than ever. Her calm, reassuring presence had always given me strength.

But Link needed her more than I did, and Ashton would no doubt keep us separated if she tried to return.

As we approached Castletown, I lifted my head to look upon the familiar, charming sight. I had always enjoyed visiting the town, but that day I dreaded it. Considering all that had happened, I feared what I would see in the faces of my people.

What awaited us there stole my breath away.

Countless people filled the marketplace, flooding into the side alleys. The majority held their own smaller white candles, sheltering the flickering flames from the breeze. Children stood close to their parents, grasping flowers in their little hands and watching the procession with curious eyes.

It made an incredibly solemn sight… but such a beautiful one too.

I wished they could know my appreciation, but as always I remained a mystery, hidden behind my veil. They watched us walk by in silence, creating a dreamlike prelude to what I knew would be a disappointing ceremony.

We soon entered the Temple of Time's courtyard, and as always I admired the shallow man-made ponds stretching out before it. Lily pads drifted across the clear water, some featuring delicate pink blossoms. Trees lined each side of the temple, now richly green with leaves.

_At least some beauty remains here_.

Renae had done her best to prepare the Temple of Time's interior within the boundaries Ashton had set. The torches had been lit to counter the lack of sunlight, casting an orange glow about the chamber and creating a solemn ambiance. Dozens of white lily bouquets surrounded the Altar of Time, creating a stark contrast to its dark stone. Rich blue banners bearing the golden crest of the Hylian Royal Family adorned the walls. Aside from the narrow strip of red carpeting, they remained the brightest items in the temple. The lords and ladies, dressed in their funeral attire, formed a dark mass on either side of the carpeting. A group of select military officers, garbed in their formal uniforms, formed two neat rows on either side of the Altar. And there before them, at the center of everything, lay the reason we had gathered that day:

The gleaming white casket.

It seemed to glow in the torchlight, shining brighter than the lilies. The color represented purity, suitable for a man of honor.

Link would scoff at the very idea. He had always thought himself tainted, being the experienced warrior he was.

_And now he has a black scar marring his very flesh._

Slowly I walked the narrow carpeting, head bowed as I clutched my bouquet. The experience felt eerily reminiscent of my wedding day. Trade my black gown and veil for white, my lilies for roses, and I'd be a bride rather than a widow.

_That is absolute rubbish. A groom awaits a bride at the end of the aisle, not a corpse._

_But there is no corpse_, I reminded myself. _The casket is empty. In reality I'm more a bride than a widow._

Still I could not deny the similarities. I had come full circle in some twisted way. Ashton saw it as closure, after all.

_But it isn't _real_... This is an act, and you're the lead performer…_

_The only performer._

As I approached the casket, I paused to place my bouquet atop its polished surface. Then I moved behind it, facing the crowd as I took my place between the two rows of soldiers, before the Altar of Time. I was glad for my veil; it masked my tense expression—and my lack of tears. The ministers followed, placing their candles in the seven holders circling the casket before taking their places at the head of the crowd.

And so the service began. We opened with song and proceeded with prayer, asking the gods to guide Link's soul into the afterlife, where he would find everlasting joy and peace. No eulogies were given, no speeches in remembrance of Link's servitude—Ashton had forbidden such displays.

"_You will lay his memory to rest,"_ he had ordered. "_That is all."_

I remembered my father's funeral. It had been a grand ceremony, suitable for a king. The only aspect I found grander than the ceremony itself had been the sheer number of guests. Lords and ladies from across the entire world had come, each bringing their own gesture of reverence. Many had given eulogies, and Link, just a few months my husband, had spoken last. By then many of the guests' eyes had glazed over from the monotony of previous speeches. But his sincere delivery and military demeanor—not to mention the curiosity he roused from the "pure" nobles—had restored their attention before the closing prayer. I had been too grieved to really appreciate any of it at the time, but to that day the memory of that beautiful ceremony brought me peace. My father's life had ended sooner than expected, but he had served his kingdom well, and the people's appreciation had shown during that ceremony.

My feelings quickly dissolved to frustration as my thoughts returned to the present. Countless people from multiple kingdoms had come to honor my father, yet barely half my own court had attended Link's funeral. Their disregard sickened me. Link had fought and bled for his people in ways they couldn't imagine. _And this is how they honor you. With some half-baked private funeral._

The nobles hadn't even requested the funeral, and yet the Temple had been reserved for them. Had I gotten my way, the ceremony would have been held outdoors so everyone could attend. But Ashton had wanted it tucked away out of sight. The common people could attend afterward if they wished. As much as I disliked this prejudiced arrangement, I lacked the power to change it.

When the service had ended, the attendees each came to offer me their condolences. It was a rather mechanical experience, consisting of many slightly varied apologies. I gave the hushed thanks of a grieving widow; oftentimes a mere nod sufficed.

When Lord Kinsley approached, however, I was moved by the emotion he failed to suppress. He had known Link for ten years after all, many of which he had served as his personal advisor. The two shared a strong friendship; naturally Link's death would bring him grief.

"I can't give up on him," he said to me, struggling to keep his voice even. "I have to believe he's still out there somewhere…"

I clasped his arm and met his gaze through my veil.

"Then don't," I whispered. "I won't give up either…not until we have a body to bury."

He blinked and slowly nodded—clearly he hadn't expected such a response. I released his arm and watched him go, hoping I had brought him some comfort.

Lady Renae expressed similar sorrow, but with more restraint. She, like a few other members of the Council, had always been fond of Link. But their friendship had been less familiar, and unlike Kinsley she had already accepted Link's death.

Once the lords and ladies had left the temple, the common people were allowed to enter and pay their own respects. They came in a clustered line, walking the carpet one group at a time. The ministers had left with the nobles, leaving only the guards to accompany me as I stood watching behind my dark veil. I could tell my silent presence unnerved some people, but most gave me a respectful bow—sometimes even with an expression of sympathy. They knew of my love for Link—and thus the grief I endured.

I watched them whisper prayers and place flowers at the casket's base—many of them with tears. Link knew many of Castletown's inhabitants quite well, but even those he never personally met had reason to grieve him. He had loved his people and served them to the best of his abilities.

_He still does._

Siena eventually showed, carrying her youngest child—a little girl name Grace—in her arms. Her two eldest children, Rosie and Connor, followed at her heels while grasping lilies in their little hands. All of them wore black. I smiled behind my veil, happy just to see her again. Ashton had forbidden me from receiving any more visitors, and I missed her company.

Quietly she instructed Rosie and Connor to place their flowers by the casket. They did so, looking at me with uncertainty before rushing back to their mother. She gave me a quick, bracing smile and turned to leave as more followed behind her.

That she also knew Link's secret brought me comfort. I no longer stood as the sole performer, but one of two.

_This could have been it, you know_, I reminded myself. _This could have been the end. Had things gone differently, you'd be a childless widow, overwhelmed with grief and fearful of the future._

I closed my eyes as the weight of that possibility fell upon me—one I had already tasted. I had come so close to losing him, so close to entering the nightmare I had feared for years. My problems were far from over, but in that moment I felt powerful waves of gratitude. Nothing short of a miracle had saved me from a life of quiet misery.

_Thank you_, I silently prayed,_ for watching over us._

_._

When the last person had left the temple, the time came to deliver the casket to the royal catacombs, a massive, majestic structure located on the castle grounds. Quickly the guards moved to fill the casket with the flowers people had piled on the floor. To see so many brightly colored blossoms fill the casket nearly to its brim left me with a hushed sense of joy. For me, those flowers represented life, symbolizing that Link still lived. I placed my own bouquet atop the rest before the guards replaced the lid and lifted the casket. And so we began our smaller procession back toward the castle.

As we reentered Castletown, we found ourselves slowing to a stop, for another large crowd had gathered to block our path—people I did not recognize from the ceremony. Their cold expressions unnerved me, as did the torches in their hands.

"Stand back," the lead guard ordered them. "Make way!"

The people ignored him.

"Look at her, dressed all in black, head down—submissive as ever. This is not the queen I remember."

My throat went dry as my eyes sought out the speaker—a plump, middle aged woman standing at the front of the crowd. She wore a simple blue dress, worn shoes, and a look of disgust.

"How dare you show your face out here," she continued, "after everything you've done? And what is this pathetic display you call a funeral?"

The guards closed in around me, protecting me, but they were clearly outnumbered.

"This is a joke!" another bearded man shouted, stepping forward to point his finger at me. Warily I noticed a hatchet in his other hand. "An insult to his memory—and it's _your_ doing!"

Then, in a fit of rage, he threw his hatchet directly at the casket, embedding it deep in the flawless white wood.

I stared at the dented casket through widened eyes, too stunned to react. One of the guards quickly retrieved the weapon, anger darkening his face.

"How dare you?" he snapped. "We gathered here to honor him. Empty or not, this casket was all we had for him—and look what you've done!"

The bearded man gave a loud, humorless laugh.

"How dare I?" he growled. "How dare _you_, a man of the Hylian Royal Guard, settle for this sorry excuse of a ceremony! This is for our prince—the Lord General himself! The man who brought an end to the Retaliation War! The man who married into power and used it to improve our lives in ways none of his predecessors could! He never stopped being one of us—he gave his life for us!"

The crowed voiced their sound agreement, raising their torches in outrage.

"But for what?" he bellowed, his dark eyes settling on me. "So that imposter can sit on your throne?"

"How can you," the woman in the blue dress spoke up, "you, the one Prince Link loved more than anyone—how can you bury this casket and then give yourself to the very tyrant who took his life? You have betrayed him—you've betrayed us all!"

Again the crowd gave their loud approval, their torches rising high above their heads.

"Well here's one Hylian who won't bow to a false king," the bearded man shouted. "Burying an empty casket will not lay our prince's memory to rest!"

Then, to my horror, he flung his torch at the casket, setting it on fire. Several other people did the same, fueling the flames.

"We will not be silenced—we follow the Lord General even in death! His spirit will never rest until the tyrant is dethroned!"

Screams pierced the air as Vandelian soldiers suddenly flooded the market, putting out the flames and beating the rebels into submission. Violence filled the square as the Hylians fought back or fled. I found myself being forcefully dragged back toward the castle, despite my pleas for them to stop. The rebels had spoken words of treason against Ashton, and I feared he would show little mercy.

As we neared the castle stairway, I furiously tore free of my guards' gauntleted grasp.

"I wish to speak to Ashton!" I shouted, lifting my veil to expose my face. "Take me to him now!"

"Lord Ashton sees no one unless they are summoned," a cold voice spoke behind me. I whirled around to see Captain Felix standing in the entranceway, a smirk on his lips. Furiously I stared at him, registering his tight black hair, his Vandelian green eyes, and his polished armor, bearing the black Vandelian stallion.

"Out of my way," I growled as I brushed past him. He let me go without a word, but a group of Vandelians still followed at my heels.

I raced out of the throne room and down the hall, ignoring the stunned looks of lords and ladies on their way to midday meal. Many of them had not attended the funeral service.

Reaching the stairwell, I hurried up three flights of stairs and down a wide corridor, stopping only when I'd reached my destination. I pounded on the door, suppressing my irritation as the guards caught up.

"Come in, your Majesty," Kinsley's weary voice sounded behind the door.

Relieved that I had found him, I opened the door and entered the room—as did my guards.

Kinsley's study nearly matched mine in size, but its fewer furnishings gave the illusion of a larger room. Weapons he had collected over the years adorned the walls, along with various maps of foreign lands. Countless papers and tools covered his desk, arranged neatly to avoid clutter.

The minister sat there in his chair, his face lined with exhaustion and grief as he fingered a glass of wine.

"Kinsley, you must tell me what is happening outside these castle walls," I demanded, breathless and angry. "Our people just set fire to Link's casket in the market, and I refuse to be kept ignorant any longer. What has Ashton done?"

What little blood remained in Kinsley's face drained as his eyes widened in shock.

"Fire?" he whispered. "How…How could they…?"

"They did it to honor him. They refuse to bury an empty casket while Ashton remains king. It would seem not everyone wanted this funeral."

The minister's gaze grew distant as he shook his head. "Dear gods…"

"Tell me what he's done, Kinsley."

He looked at me, casting a nervous glance toward the guards.

"Nothing," he murmured. "He's done nothing."

"What do you mean _nothing_? Those people did not set fire to Link's casket over nothing!"

"He's done nothing," he said again, his eyes meeting mine. "That is all I can tell you."

I drew a breath through my nostrils, struggling to keep my voice low.

"Exactly whom do you serve, minister?"

"Please, your Majesty, try to understand—Ashton will remove me from the Council if I say any more. I would be rendered useless."

I stared at him, feeling a vein throb in my temple.

"As useless as I am, you mean?" I replied sharply.

He met my intense gaze, and for a moment I thought he would cave. But then he looked away and bowed his head.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I am doing what I must."

I pursed my lips, tasting bitter disappointment.

"Things will continue to escalate, Kinsley. The people will not endure this for long. They will rise up."

"Against whom?" he asked, anger sharpening his tone. "The Hylian Army? The Vandelian Army? Ashton's undead army? He controls our people with fear; too many prefer to keep their heads down!"

"Their tolerance will not last," I replied firmly. "And when our people do find the strength to fight back, I certainly hope I'll find you among them."

I held his gaze, willing him to respond, but he simply looked away. Angrily I turned and left the room.

I returned to my chambers, unwilling to attend midday meal while the morning's events remained so painfully fresh in my mind. I had little appetite for food or conversation—unless of course it involved a council meeting. I needed to think; I needed to act.

Casting off my veil, I moved to stand before the large bay window, subconsciously rubbing my arms.

"_You have betrayed him!"_ The people's angry accusations rang in my ears. "_You have betrayed us all!"_

"You don't understand," I whispered, blinking back tears. "I have to play by his rules."

I imagined the people felt as helpless as I did. Link's "death" and my apparent submission to Ashton left them with no true leadership. They remained lost, divided even amongst each other. Perhaps Link was right to reveal himself soon. The people already looked to Shade as a leader; Link's return would be the best turn of events imaginable.

_But that doesn't solve your problems..._

I jumped as a sharp knock sounded at the door.

"Leave me," I called, knowing Heather would have knocked more politely. "I will see no one this afternoon."

"Lord Ashton demands your presence in the dining hall. You will change into more appropriate attire and come as commanded, or we will escort you by force."

I gave a frustrated sigh, knowing my resistance was pointless. Turning from the window, I paused to quickly straighten my hair before the mirror. Then I moved for the door, ignoring Ashton's orders regarding my attire. He wanted me out of the black mourning color, but I intended to grieve Link as long as he remained publically deceased.

Drawing a deep breath, I paused to assume my queen's mask before opening the door. The guards frowned at my black gown.

"Your mourning period has ended; Lord Ashton commands that you wear regular attire."

"Ashton can force me to attend meals," I argued, "but he does not control my wardrobe. I will not parade such disregard toward my husband."

Although clearly annoyed, the guards followed me toward the dining hall without further argument, much to my relief.

.

As I approached the broad doorway leading into the dining hall, an attendant moved to announce my arrival.

"Her Majesty, Queen Zelda."

Ashton's guests paused their dining and turned to watch. Under ordinary circumstances, everyone would have risen from their seats until I had taken mine, but Ashton had forbidden such acts of reverence until I became his wife.

Thus I slowly walked toward the table, holding my head high as the whispers followed my echoing footsteps. Ashton watched me come, irritation darkening his sharp features.

"A black gown," he said coldly. "Did my attendant not deliver my message?"

"He did," I answered. "I refused."

Ashton's frown deepened.

"Refusal is not an option, Zelda. I told you to stop these childish displays."

"There is nothing childish about mourning my husband."

"Your mourning period has ended."

"I intend to mourn him the rest of my life."

"Pardon the interruption," Alicia spoke up, stifling a laugh. "But are you saying you intend to wear black the rest of your life, Lady Zelda?"

I turned to meet her taunting green eyes, so much like Ashton's.

"Don't be absurd. One year is the respectable tradition. And a change in dress will not mark the end of my grief."

"Sit down, Zelda," Ashton ordered, watching me with cold, unamused eyes.

Tolerating his rudeness, I calmly took the empty seat beside him, perpendicular to his right. Servants appeared to fill my plate and glass, clearly flustered by the way Ashton waited for them to finish.

"Before you say another word," he murmured when they had gone. "I don't want any talk of your little experience in the market today."

I met his gaze, unsurprised.

"Tell me what you intend to do with the people you had arrested."

"They spoke words of treason and destroyed your property. That is a rather serious crime, don't you think?"

"I don't believe their words or actions were misplaced. Not everyone wishes to believe my husband is dead, and until you honor our sacred Rite of Kingship they have reason to call you a false tyrant."

Ashton smacked his hand against the table, causing a few ladies to jump as the crockery rattled. I pressed my lips together, more than familiar with his temper.

"Enough," he snapped. "I did not conquer your army to play by your rules. You surrendered everything, including all Hylian traditions, to me. I have no obligation to uphold your beliefs or partake in absurd rituals. That any of it still exists here is evidence of my mercy and an extension of my courtesy. Do you understand?"

I did not reply, and an uneasy silence fell over the dining hall. Even some of Ashton's closer followers appeared unsettled. He ignored them and proceeded to eat his meal, and slowly they did the same.

"If you hurt those people they will become martyrs," I said quietly.

Ashton looked up and, noticing everyone's eyes upon him, dabbed the corners of his mouth to speak.

"They have not done enough to warrant execution," he said in a more controlled tone. "But they cannot act as they did without consequence. I must maintain some order; don't you agree?"

The nobles visibly relaxed a bit, nodding their agreement. Inwardly I scoffed.

_You would not be so agreeable if Ashton had slain one of your pure-blooded brethren._

These people did not share the outrage I had witnessed in the market. Link had always been an outsider to them, an intruder to some. Those who had supported our marriage had long since left the castle, and those who remained thought Ashton's rise to power an improvement, a return to the way things should be.

"So I can trust they will not be harmed?" I asked him.

"You can trust they will eventually return to their normal lives. Now enough, I'm through discussing this."

"Sweeping this matter under the rug will solve nothing—"

"I said _enough_," he hissed. "You will abandon the subject."

Alicia sighed and shook her head, her tight blond ringlets swaying about her painted face.

"Oh, my Lord, why do you remain so determined to wed someone who refuses to appreciate you?"

I met her mocking gaze with a calm, cold expression.

"How on earth could I appreciate the man who killed my husband and seized my throne?" I inquired loudly.

"By recognizing his victory as a blessing in disguise, of course," she answered fervently. "Your late husband caused political problems on a variety of levels. With Lord Ashton as our king we will regain the reputation we have all but lost. Placing your personal feelings aside to embrace our new king would be in Hyrule's best interest."

I shook my head, biting back a humorless laugh. Heated words flew to my tongue, and I released them without restraint.

"Don't embarrass yourself, Alicia. You don't know the first thing about Hyrule's best interests—or politics in general. You have always disliked my husband for two pitiful reasons. One, he rejected your shameless advances years ago, and two, your failed marriage has left you with an undying prejudice against people of humble origin."

She stared at me, her cheeks flushed as hatred blazed in her eyes. I rarely resorted to such low retaliation, but that time I felt no shame.

"Now, ladies, let us not spoil this delightful meal with any more unpleasant bickering," Ashton interrupted, laying a hand on her arm.

Alicia turned and forced a smile for him, but I did not miss the familiarity in their exchange. "Certainly, my Lord." Then she resumed her meal, carefully avoiding my gaze.

"Zelda, dearest," Ashton added, giving me a condescending look, "the sooner you stop your rebellious nonsense the sooner you can bring these conversations to the Council Chambers where they belong."

I cast him a dark look and reached for my glass, swallowing my retort with a sip of wine. I had barely set down the glass when Ashton abruptly snatched my hand.

"I want this off," he said coldly, tapping my wedding ring. The next time I see it it's mine."

I pulled away, holding my hand against my collarbone and glaring until he resumed his meal.

"And if I see you in mourning attire again I'll have all your black gowns removed," he added. "Burned if need be."

I ignored him but glanced toward Alicia, irritated to see a smirk on her red lips.

A few moments of clinking silverware passed before the murmur of conversation gradually returned. Grateful that the guests' attention had left me, I took my fork and halfheartedly pushed my food around, struggling to summon an appetite.

I considered Ashton's promise of restoring my authority once I became his wife. But I realized then, with increasing clarity, how little truth they carried. Ashton would forever delight in controlling me, and he would grant me nothing until we had consummated the marriage. That I could not do. Pledging a false vow to him would be wrong but still a far simpler matter than consummation. I could never lie with him, certainly not after I'd already given myself to Link.

_But you cannot refuse him. You cannot yield your claim to the throne._

I had never actually believed Ashton's empty promises, but I had refused to seriously consider the idea of marriage until my mourning period had ended. Now that protective veil had been lifted, and I remained faced with a difficult choice:

_Who are you first—Hyrule's queen or Link's wife?_

Impa had asked me that very question months ago, and I had avoided a straight response. Deep down I knew the morally just answer, but I could never accept it. Still the real question remained: could I _act_ by it? Could I put my personal needs aside, or would I let them prevent me from acting for the better good?

Sadly I recalled the words my father had spoken to me the day he permitted my marriage to Link:

"_You are first and foremost a princess of Hyrule. It brings me joy to grant you this happiness, but should the time come—and I pray it never will—you must never choose him over our people. No good will come of it, Zelda."_

Tears stung my eyes as the implication behind those words sank it more painfully than ever before.

_But I love him, _a small, irrational voice within me pleaded. _He is everything to me…_

Ashton had gained leadership over Hyrule through war, and I remained Queen by birthright. In the eyes of the court, a marriage between us seemed completely natural. Logical. Preferable. Love was not important by any means. They, too, would expect me to lie with Ashton—at least until we conceived an heir.

I dropped my fork and reached for my wineglass, sickened by the very thought. Years ago I had agonized over the same fear, but it didn't feel the same. My father could not protect me this time, nor could Link, as much as he wanted to believe otherwise. I had every ounce of faith in him, but founding a resistance had so far proven more difficult than he anticipated.

I could not rely on him to save me. Not this time.

_Then run away. Escape this dull cage and help the Resistance—you could do more there than here._

Inwardly I sighed, knowing it was impossible. I had already considered the idea numerous times before. The thought of sneaking around with Link and recruiting rebels was more than tempting—even despite the dangers involved.

_Ashton would stop at nothing to find me. I would be a burden to them. And how would that look to my people—cowardly? Selfish?_

But I could not simply marry Ashton either. Doing so would earn me nothing but pain, and I would play right into his hands.

_And into his bed, more like._

My father had warned me not to choose Link over Hyrule, but he had also rejected Ashton as a leader of Hyrule. Ashton stood at the root of everyone's problems, and he had to be removed before Hyrule's delicate situation grew worse. If I hoped to accomplish that before he forced me into marriage, I had to take action—alone, without the help of my court or the Council. And I had to strike hard—something that would rob Ashton of significant power and give the Resistance a fighting chance.

Link's voice suddenly echoed through my mind, bringing with it a very clear realization.

"_We have little hope of defeating him unless that weapon is destroyed."_

Slowly I glanced toward Ashton, watching him smile at his giggling female audience. In that moment, I reached a firm and dangerous decision—one I knew would turn the tide.

_I must destroy the staff._


	21. Chapter XXI

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXI

Steadily I walked between two pairs of Vandelian guards, my hands at my sides and my head held high. Solemnity masked my face, concealing my tension and deceit.

Tall windows lining the corridors revealed a dark and starless sky. Time had worn well into midnight, but Ashton had yet to retire. I had been summoned to his chambers—or, rather, he had accepted my request for an audience.

After reaching my decision to destroy the staff, I had retired early to carefully plot my course of action. I soon realized only one simple obstacle stood in my way—access to Ashton's bedroom. I needed only to look upon the staff; the rest did not matter. My own safety had long ceased to be a priority.

And so I had changed into a summer nightgown, one not terribly revealing but still nothing I'd normally allow Ashton to see. Then I covered myself with a robe—undone. Beneath his kingly manners and apparent courteousness, Ashton was nothing but a lecher. If my appearance didn't get me into his bedroom, the topic of our conversation would.

After I had dressed and let my hair down, I had opened my chamber door and stood there, watching my guards jump to attention.

"_I have a message for your king,"_ I had told them calmly. _"Tell him I seek a private audience with him. Tell him," _I had added,"_I wish to discuss the details of our marriage."_

One of them had done so, and I had waited in my chambers, praying Ashton would take the bait. And he had—about ten minutes ago. The guard had soon returned with his permission, and my plot had sprung into action.

Link had, of course, warned me not to attempt the very thing I intended to do. _"It could be dangerous,"_ he had said, obviously referring to the time he had destroyed Ashton's first staff. He regretted that hasty decision to this day, but I had come to realize he took a necessary risk. He had done his duty, saving countless lives with his sacrifice. Of course, his survival made this much easier to accept.

I doubted the same danger awaited me, but I felt more than willing to take that same risk. As long as I succeeded, the consequences no longer concerned me.

"_You just keep being the strong and brilliant queen I know you are,"_ Link had told me,"_and I'll take care of the rest."_

I knew he would. But he could do nothing while the staff remained in Ashton's hands. I imagined the Resistance was still far too weak, and Link would never send them to their deaths. Destroying the staff was the first "brilliant" idea I'd come up with. Only I held the power to do it, and I desperately wanted to succeed—for Link and for our people.

More guards awaited me at Ashton's chamber doors, and silently they let me inside. Ashton sat on his sofa, also dressed in his nightclothes and robe. The fireplace blazed in the nearby, casting an orange glow against his long crimson hair. My eyes quickly scanned the room, but the staff was nowhere in sight.

_As I thought. He must keep it in his bedroom._

Just one door away…

"Well, well," Ashton murmured, his eyes shamelessly roaming my body, "this is certainly unexpected."

"I've come to discuss our potential marriage," I said.

"Yes, as my guards have informed me," he replied. "Do you normally request an audience at this hour?"

"No, and I assume you didn't summon me here to deny me one."

He frowned, then glanced toward the guards standing behind me.

"Leave us."

They did so, filing out into the corridor and closing the door behind them. Ashton's gaze returned to me, and with a smile he gestured to the sofa across from him.

"Have a seat," he offered.

I did so, subconsciously pulling my robe closed as I sank onto the cushion. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and the soft crackling of the fire filled the silence as he stared at me. I stared back, countering his attempt to intimidate.

"So," he finally said, a smile tugging at his lips, "you've finally come to your senses."

"I want to know precisely what a marriage would mean for me," I answered calmly.

"So you've come to negotiate?" he inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

"If I must."

His smile widened. "Very well. Name your terms."

I drew a deep breath, taking a moment to gather my thoughts.

"I will attend all council meetings and hold equal weight in the decision making."

"Granted."

I blinked, surprised by his quick consent. I suspected deceit, but I hadn't come for a sincere discussion.

"I will have command over both Hylian and Vandelian soldiers."

"If I can recall," Ashton said, rubbing his chin in mock contemplation," military affairs have never been a concern of yours."

"Simply because I trusted those who maintained them. I no longer have that luxury."

Ashton scoffed. "And why would you need command of my soldiers?"

"I tire of them treating me like a prisoner."

"That is entirely your doing. I could call them off you now if I trusted you to behave."

"Will I have command over them or not?"

"Certainly, as long as your orders don't clash with mine."

I studied him coldly, knowing that would occur far too often. Ordinarily I would have debated the matter further, but I had more immediate concerns.

"I want to keep my own chambers."

"Fine. But you will sleep in my bed until you give me an heir. A son."

I pressed my lips together, struggling to keep a calm demeanor. Seeing me riled would only please him.

"Our society does not discriminate between male and female heirs."

"It does while I remain king," he corrected, adopting a more aggressive tone.

I clenched my teeth, barely containing the urge to strike him. _This isn't working… I need to get into his bedroom. _Seduction would be completely transparent, and I could never accomplish that act, not when his mere presence nauseated me.

"I will not even consider consummation until I have properly grieved my husband," I hissed. "That means nine more months of public mourning."

Ashton gave a hearty laugh, then quickly sobered. "Out of the question. I am your king, and you will give yourself to me every night if I wish it."

"I am not asking your permission," I said coldly. "You will not touch me until I allow it. I will do whatever I must to ensure that."

He stared at me, all pleasantries gone from his demeanor.

"There was once a time," he murmured, holding my gaze with narrowed eyes, "when you could not wait to be my bride."

I gave a sharp, humorless laugh. "That was before I knew what sort of man you really are. Whatever childish infatuation I felt for you died a long time ago. And it was never love; I've known that ever since I fell for Link. He showed me love in ways you never could."

"And yet here you are," Ashton seethed, "negotiating our marriage. Sounds like betrayal to me."

His words struck a nerve, and viciously I struck back.

"You like to pretend you can take back everything you lost, but you can't," I snapped. "I am no longer the prize virgin you aimed to deflower. I am a woman wed. I gave myself to Link, and you can never undo that. If I ever choose to lie with you, my thoughts will be with him. And every time I will think what a small, _pathetic_ man you are compared to him."

Ashton lunged to his feet and snatched me by the arms.

"You will regret those words," he hissed, jerking me up off the sofa.

My heart pounded as he dragged me toward the bedroom, clutching my arm in a painful grip. I struggled against him, feigning resistance.

"I can have you right now," he growled. "I'll _ravish_ you if I wish it!"

Violently he shoved me toward the bed. I stumbled, catching myself on the nearest post. I lifted my head—

And there it was.

It stood encased in gold, protected from thieves, no doubt. Such precautions made little difference to me.

"Idiot," I muttered, summoning my strongest magic as I lifted a hand toward the case—

A blinding explosion filled the room as the case and everything around it caught fire. Before I could revel in my triumph, however, I found myself overcome with dizziness. My knees buckled and I fell to the floor, struggling to stop the room from spinning. Nausea set in, and I feared I would be sick.

Vaguely I heard Ashton shouting but failed to make out his words. Rough hands yanked me up off the floor, but I found no time to react before everything went black.

**xxxxxxx**

I woke to a state of discomfort, startled to find myself lying on a cold, hard surface. A faint stench pricked my nose, but not a sound touched my ears. Slowly I sat up, suppressing my initial panic as I blinked in the pitch darkness. Some grimy residue lingered on my cheek, and quickly I wiped it away, swallowing my disgust.

I sat there a moment, gathering my wits as my memories came rushing back. Considering what I had done, I could guess my location. The question was: _had I succeeded?_

Carefully I stood, extending my hands to feel my way through the blackness. Experience had taught me not to immediately rely on magic in unfamiliar surroundings, especially if it drew attention. So I explored with my senses, feeling along the rough wall until my hand brushed a metal door. Habitually I groped for the knob and turned it, knowing it would not give. I turned away with a sigh and, feeling it was safe to do so, summoned a gentle flame to my hand.

There was little to see. Four stone walls met a high ceiling on all sides, none of which contained a window. Nothing occupied the space but myself and a chamber pot in the far corner.

_So he threw me in a high-security cell. I suppose it's the worst he can do, given the circumstances._

I remembered the hunger in his eyes, the raw lust he held for me. Getting inside his bedroom had proven laughably easy—he never even _suspected_ my true intentions. I had simply lured out his temper, hoping he would react with such wrath.

None of it had been an act. My deception had relied more on trickery than lies. I had meant every word, and he knew it.

Releasing another heavier sigh, I moved to the other side of the cell to sit against the wall. There I cradled my flame, letting my thoughts wander into the past years I had shared with Ashton.

There had been a time when I pitied him. Even after I came to realize his true nature, knowing he would never experience love had saddened me. I had seen all sides of Ashton, the good and the bad, and for a while I had dared to believe I could make a better man of him—the man I thought I had known.

But those hopes began to wither as Link and I grew closer, and eventually I felt only anger and fear—anger toward the gods for letting me love a man I could never have and fear of becoming the wrong man's wife. It wasn't until later, after the engagement had ended and Ashton had returned to Vandelius, that I strove to make peace with him from afar—to pity him again rather than hate him.

Then Vandelius turned against us, and any scrap of compassion I might have salvaged for Ashton burned in the flames of war—a war he had instigated for his own selfish needs. And after everything he had done to Link—to us—I now harbored nothing for him but contempt.

.

I closed my eyes, pushing my thoughts into more uplifting territory. Naturally Link entered my mind, and sadly I prayed he was safe. He would be furious once he learned what I had done…

I straightened as a thought suddenly occurred to me: how would the Resistance find out? Even if I had succeeded—and I was confident I had—Ashton would surely keep it quiet. Fear of the staff held nearly as much power as the staff itself. But only Vandelian guards had witnessed its destruction, and surely Ashton had ways of keeping them silent. As long as I remained trapped in this cell, how would Link ever know what I had done? How would the Resistance know I'd given them a chance to strike? Suppose Ashton acquired a replacement staff?

I doubted the necromancer would be so cooperative, but I cursed my lack of foresight nonetheless.

Then again, I had expected to be conscious.

Why I had passed out in the first place both confused and concerned me. I had cast a very powerful spell, but certainly not enough to knock me out cold…

My concentration faded as my jaw stretched into a wide yawn. I found myself struggling to stay awake. Fatigue fogged my mind, and my eyelids drooped shut. My flame had grown significantly smaller in my palm, so I let it go out.

_It's not like I have anything better to do._

Adjusting to the darkness, I pulled my robe closer and let myself return to the realm of restless dreams.

**xxxxxxx**

Ashton sat in an old armchair before the fire, fingering his near-empty wine glass as he stared into the flames. The year had progressed well into June, yet the days remained cloudy and the nights cold. _A sign of the times_, some of the more superstitious nobles whispered, much to his annoyance.

Generally Ashton preferred a woman's company to counter the dark thoughts that accompanied his insomnia, but that night he preferred solitude. A fury blazed within him, ignited the moment Zelda had flung a frighteningly powerful burst of magic toward his enchanted staff—the item which secured his power over her and the people of Hyrule.

What frightened him more than her attack, however, was his own reaction to it. He had felt the burning pressure of her magic the moment it struck the golden case. He had felt _pain_, despite being on the opposite side of the room. This experience had both disturbed and fascinated him. He felt somehow bound to the staff, as though its power had become a part of him. Such thoughts excited him too much to worry about pain.

Still, his own idiocy astounded him. How gullible he had been, allowing her into his chambers—into his bedroom? Of course she had come with an underlying motive, hidden beneath her silk robe and that slip of a nightgown. She had known the slightest hint of seduction, whether intended or not, would weaken his suspicion and blur his common sense. Ashton could not determine what it was about her that bewitched him so. Her flawless body was not so unique for a king like him. Her face then? She had looked different with her hair down, so young and fair…

Ashton growled and downed the rest of his wine, then threw the glass into the glowing fire. It was not her appearance that gave her such significance. It was her presence, her ability to so effortlessly rile him like no other woman could—it was her _fire_. Ashton would never stop wanting her until he snuffed it out; that much he did know.

Rising from his chair, he slowly approached his staff, which remained unharmed within its golden case.

Of course she had failed in her devious little mission. Ashton had taken necessary precautions months ago. Not only had he locked his precious staff inside a golden case to which only he held the key, but the case itself was enchanted. He had hired a specialized team of Hylians to cast multiple spells upon it, including a fire-resistant barrier. Ashton had doubted the strength of their combined magic, but Zelda's attack had provided the ultimate test. She was supposedly the most powerful spellcaster in Hyrule, yet she had failed to overcome him.

The power to kill him lay deep within her, but Ashton knew she would never use her magic for such a dark purpose. A religiously devout flower like her would never use her Gift, supposedly granted to her by her gods, for murder.

_And that is where I win_, Ashton smiled to himself as he eyed the staff through the tiny holes in its case. _I have no such limitations._

He had thrown her in the dungeons, of course. It was no less than she deserved. Ashton had known Zelda long enough to realize a Hyrulean prison cell would never break her spirit, but he dared to hope that, if he kept her there long enough, she might come to realize the futility of her resistance.

Vaguely he wondered just how much more she would endure before her inevitable surrender. The loss of her peasant love and their unborn child had nearly broken her, yet somehow she had clawed her way out of despair.

Not that any of it mattered.

Fingering the small golden key around his neck, Ashton turned away from the staff and climbed into bed, a smile still tugging at his lips.

_I have you right where I want you_, he thought. _It's only a matter of time._

**xxxxxxx**

Darkness.

My eyes opened, but my view remained unchanged from behind closed lids. Fear jarred my senses but quickly faded as I remembered where I was.

_Ah. Still Ashton's prisoner._

I sighed and summoned my little flame, wishing I at least knew the time. Was it day? Night? One could never tell in a high-security cell—it was part of the punishment.

Wearily I sank back against the wall and thought of Link and Impa—subjects to which my mind often retreated. Daydreaming consumed a large portion of my time—as did sleeping. There was little else I could do to fight my extreme boredom.

I also worried about Heather. I knew my absence had frightened her, whether she knew my whereabouts or not. I could only hope she had kept her head down and fallen in line, for her own protection. I had never meant to cause her distress, and I regretted not informing her of my plan.

_Hasty. You were far too hasty._

Just then a tiny slot in the door opened as someone thrust a bowl into my cell—making me jump. I often did not hear them come; sometimes I wondered if they tried to scare me. Footsteps sounded as the nameless guard walked away, and I shook myself awake, desperate to pry some information from him.

"You could at least tell me why I'm here!" I shouted, attempting to rile him. "Of what am I accused?"

Silence.

"So this is the justice of Vandelius? No trial? Not even an accusation after all this time? Pathetic!"

No response.

I sat back with a growl and threw my flame at the door. It vanished in a burst of sparks. Then I summoned another one and stared at the bowl sitting on the floor.

_Well, that's either breakfast or supper._ Prisoners did not receive a midday meal.

Realizing how hungry I'd become, I moved away from the wall and reached for the bowl. It contained only rice and bread, but it looked edible enough. Still cradling the little flame in one hand, I brought the bowl to my mouth and bit into the rice. My face still burned as I did this, even though I had done it many times before. But preserving my pride had long ceased to be an option. Prisoners did not use silverware, and my fingers had become an undesirable alternative.

_If Ashton could see me now_.

The stuffy air sometimes nauseated me to the point of retching, and a guard had yet to change the pot. Deep down I feared how long I could bear such conditions.

But I would not give in. Blows to my pride and the loss of general luxuries would not weaken my resistance. I certainly disliked the idea of remaining trapped in my cell for days, perhaps even weeks, but I would endure it nonetheless. Ashton would not force my hand.

Taking the bread between my thumb and forefinger, I bit into the opposite end, surprised to find it relatively fresh. I suspected Ashton had no intention of starving me; he would do nothing to ruin my appearance, should I happen to change my mind about our marriage.

I took another bite, eyeing the metal door. Attempting to escape remained an option, but I knew it was futile. Countless guards waited outside my door, and even if I slipped past them, where would I go? I would never make it off the castle grounds. And why bother trying? I'd already concluded that flight would not solve my dilemma.

No, I had dealt my hand the moment I blasted Ashton's staff. Only he could end this stalemate, and I awaited his next move—however long it took him.

**xxxxxxx**

Ashton rushed through the halls, followed by a cluster of guards. A dark frown pulled at his features, and his hands hung clenched at his sides. For just moments ago an attendant had interrupted his social indulgences to deliver one simple and unexpected message:

_The necromancer had come for him._

The attendant hadn't identified the visitor, but Ashton had known from his description.

_Why the devil would he show his face here? Our business ended months ago!_

He could not fathom what had brought the man to his castle. Had he come for the staff? To diminish his power in some way? Ashton would never allow it.

His study door finally came into view, and a guard quickly moved to open it. Inside Ashton found Vasilis standing by the fire, dressed in his dark robes with his hands clasped behind his back. And there, in a chair far from the mantle, sat the necromancer, hooded and cloaked as usual.

"How dare you come here," Ashton demanded. "I have no business with you."

Vasilis turned to him, disapproval lining his aged face.

"Your guest wishes to speak in private," he said, glancing toward the guards still standing near the door.

Ashton hesitated, considering his safety.

"Out," he barked, his eyes never leaving the necromancer. "Now!"

The Vandelians obeyed without question, leaving the three men alone in silence. Ashton did not wait for either to speak.

"You have come for my staff?" he accused, his tone rough with anger.

The necromancer murmured a dark laugh. "Don't be absurd," he spoke in his familiar, low voice. "I don't need a carved up rod to summon the dead."

His words further perturbed Ashton, though he dared not show it.

"Then why have you invited yourself into my castle?"

"I come bearing ill news—and a warning."

Ashton swallowed, wetting his dry throat.

"Out with it then."

Vasilis sighed audibly, but the necromancer ignored Ashton's rudeness.

"I trust you recall the curse I meant to place upon the queen's husband?"

Ashton stared at him, vaguely aware of the panic creeping along the edges of his mind.

"What do you mean 'meant to?'" he hissed.

"I mean it failed," the necromancer said coolly. "He escaped before I could finish him."

Rage and disbelief crashed like thunder behind Ashton's eyes, snapping something deep within him.

"_Escaped?_" he roared. "Are you telling me he's _alive_?"

"He is very much alive," the necromancer replied, unfazed by Ashton's wrath. "And your so-called widow has known for quite some time. In fact," he added, flashing a sinister grin in the firelight, "they crossed paths not a month ago."


	22. Chapter XXII

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**Fortitude**

Chapter XXII

_Breathe. Inhale, exhale. Just breathe. It'll pass._

I leaned my head back against the wall, concentrating on my slow, deep breaths as I waited for my nausea to subside. This was nearly impossible to do when the thick, stuffy air stank of vomit and other filth. I could not remember a time I'd endured worse humiliation, but in that moment all I wanted was fresh air and a gentler surface to lie upon.

This wasn't the first time it had happened. Reoccurring nausea had plagued me many times since Ashton threw me in my cell, and I felt as though I had been locked up for months. The feeling came and went, but I feared Ashton had something slipped into my food—food I couldn't even stomach half the time. Still I did not call for help; I refused to surrender. Whether my pride or determination kept me silent, I no longer knew. So far I had managed to ward off the maddening effects of my imprisonment with prayer and meditation, but the frequent sickness had begun to take its toll.

_I fear Ashton may win this battle after all…_

I lifted a trembling hand to my forehead, wiping away beads of sweat. I had chosen to endure whatever consequence my actions brought, and I did not regret that decision, but my punishment had proven more difficult than expected.

_Link endured worse_, I reminded myself. _Much worse._

He had suffered through similar conditions, most likely for a longer length of time, and his captor had constantly subjected him to both physical and psychological torture. For a while this knowledge had given me the strength to endure my own experience, but now I felt only incompetent.

_You're weak. Pathetic and weak._

Tears stung my eyes as I succumbed to self pity, weeping silently against my arm. My nausea had begun to subside, but the momentary relief brought me little comfort.

I didn't wallow for long. The sound of loud footsteps rushing toward my cell made me pause and lift my head. My heart quickened at the sound of keys, and I had barely wiped away my tears before the heavy door swung open. Torchlight flooded my cell and I squinted, struggling to make out my intruders.

"You lying _bitch_!"

Ashton's vicious tone jarred my ears, and shakily I stood, clutching the wall behind me for support—

Until he struck me across the face. Hard.

I cried out—partly from shock—and slammed into the adjoining wall. My cheek burned as I fell to my knees, tasting blood in my mouth.

"_Where is he?"_ I could barely hear him above the ringing in my ears. "I know he's alive."

"Wh-what?" I whispered, struggling to sort through my sluggish thoughts.

"Don't you play ignorant with me," he snapped. "I know you were with him. You've known all this time, deceiving me with your black gowns and religious nonsense. You will suffer for your little charade soon enough. But first," he added, his eyes narrowing in the torchlight. "You will tell me where he is."

I gave a short, breathless laugh.

"So your cloaked friend finally paid you a visit," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. "You're wasting your breath. I'll die before I help you hurt Link."

Ashton held my gaze, and I braced myself for another blow, but he merely sighed.

"I thought as much," he said. "Two weeks in this cell aren't nearly enough to kill your obstinance."

I fought to keep the surprise off my face. _Only two weeks?_

"But no matter," Ashton went on. "I have armies of capable men at my command. He can't hide forever. His survival changes nothing between us. No more stalling, Zelda; tonight we dissolve this thing you call a marriage."

His eyes left mine as he turned to the guards. "Have her cleaned up—_thoroughly_ cleaned up—and taken to the Council Chamber. She has one hour."

Then, casting me a final dark glance, he strode out of the cell. The guards moved to force me up off the ground, and I let them take my arms. Resistance would only drain what little energy I had left. While I felt more than relieved to leave the cold, stale darkness of my cell, I feared what Ashton held in store would prove equally unpleasant.

"_Tonight we dissolve this thing you call a marriage."_

His words brought me to one simple, painful conclusion—something that had always hovered over my marriage to Link, haunting us like a shadow.

_An annulment._

**xxxxxxx**

After half-dragging me out of the dungeons, up flights of stairs, and through long corridors, the guards finally reached my chambers. They entered my sitting room and dropped me onto the floor, for I had momentarily lost the will to stand.

"Your maid has already been summoned," one informed me in a gruff tone. "You have one hour."

I sat there in silence, waiting for them to leave. The door clicked shut, but still I did not move. My chambers had never appeared more inviting, yet I barely absorbed them at all. My mind wandered elsewhere, probing for a solution.

_It's no use. There's no way out of this…_

I had barely finished that thought when the door suddenly reopened behind me.

"Oh, my Lady!" Heather cried. "Thank the Sisters; I've been so worried!"

I looked up as she dropped to her knees beside me.

"Heather," I smiled softly. "You are a sight for sore eyes. Unlike me, I'm sure…"

She shook her head, her hazel eyes anxiously studying my face.

"My Lady, you're bleeding… Did Ashton do this to you?"

I shook my head, dismissing her concern. "It doesn't matter. A little cut is the least of my concerns right now. What I need first," I added, struggling to lighten my tone, "is a hot shower."

"Oh—of course, my Lady—I'm sorry for distracting you!"

"Nonsense, Heather."

"I'll have your nightclothes laid out for you and your bed turned down."

"No need. I'm afraid I won't be resting anytime soon."

Concern lined her pretty features. "No? But you must be exhausted…"

"I would like nothing more than a good sleep in my own bed, but I've been summoned to the Council Chamber. Please lay out a regular gown—a simpler one will do."

"As you wish, my Lady."

Carefully she helped me up off the floor, clearly worried about my strength. Once I'd assured her I felt steady on my feet, she pulled away toward the bedroom while I entered the bathroom.

Habitually my eyes moved toward the mirror. I jumped, startled by my own reflection. A miserable, filthy young woman stared back, her face smeared with dirt and her hair matted with grime. Dark shadows had formed under my eyes, and my face looked thin and pale. That I could appear so emaciated after just one fortnight in a cell disturbed me—then again I had been frequently ill.

Tearing my eyes away, I walked past the spacious bathtub before stripping off my clothes and stepping into the shower. I gasped when the cold water hit my skin, but the icy discomfort soon faded once heated water poured from the pipes. I closed my eyes as it ran down my body—partly to avoid looking at the dark pool collecting at my feet.

Showers were highly expensive to install; only the wealthiest families could afford them. I'd enjoyed the luxury all my life, but never had I appreciated it more. Shampooing the grime out of my hair felt so wonderful I nearly forgot what awful fate awaited me.

_So Ashton finally knows._ Why Link's captor had waited so long to tell him puzzled me. Perhaps his decision involved the staff? Whether I had successfully destroyed it remained unclear, but I doubted the necromancer's magic could withstand mine—I had tapped into the power of the Triforce of Wisdom after all.

I scrubbed fiercely, fearing I might never feel clean again. My flesh felt raw when I finally stepped out of the shower, but the pain left me satisfied. The air pierced my wet skin like invisible needles, and I quickly dried myself with a thick towel. Then, after pulling on my robe, I wrapped the towel around my dirty clothes, leaving them there for Heather.

I paused to study myself in the mirror, relieved to see a vast improvement. My face still looked too thin and tired, but clean at least. A dark bruise had begun to form on my cheek, and my bottom lip swelled around a small cut.

_Let them see it_, I thought. _Let them suspect_ _him._

Then I turned away with a sigh, knowing I had little time. Heather was nowhere to be found in the bedroom—as usual she had retreated to the sitting room so I could change in private. She had laid out a blue gown, which happened to be one of my favorites—mostly because it fit so comfortably. Hurriedly I stepped into it before calling Heather to help with the finishing touches. Once I was properly dressed, I sat before my vanity so she could pin back my damp hair.

"I wrapped my dirty clothes in my towel for you," I told her gently. "Don't bother having them cleaned—I'd rather you burned them."

"All right, my Lady."

"I'm positive I washed all the grime from my hair," I added, offering her reflection a small smile, "but do tell me if I missed a spot. I have only so much time and more than enough hair."

She smiled back and carefully began to brush out the tangles. "I shouldn't have a problem seeing any, with hair as fair as yours," she said. "Even now it shines so beautifully; you'd never know it's had any neglect."

"Thank you, dear, but it's really quite ordinary. Your curls have far more character."

She blushed and mumbled her thanks.

It felt strange to discuss something as trivial as hair, considering everything that had happened, but somehow I found it relaxing. Heather's warm presence and her simple, friendly conversation had created an eye within my storm.

But that peace would not last. Just wondering what awaited me in the Council Chamber renewed my distress…

Heather must have noticed a change in my demeanor, since she decided to broach a serious and more relevant subject.

"I don't suppose you can talk about what's happened," she said quietly. "Or at least not with me."

I looked at her reflection in the mirror, but she kept her eyes on my hair, her brows slightly drawn.

"Actually," I replied softly, "I fear it will become common knowledge soon anyway. I'd rather you knew before anyone else here."

She looked up, eyebrows lifting toward her hairline. "Really, my Lady?" The brush hovered above my head, unmoving.

"Of course. Why don't you finish with my hair, and then I'll tell you. Just pin it up out of the way; it doesn't have to be perfect."

She obliged, her fingers moving with tempered eagerness. When she had finished I gave her an approving nod and turned in my chair to take her hands.

"Heather," I said, a smile finding its way to my lips. "Do you remember when I visited the Temple of Time one day and one night to pray?"

She nodded, her curious eyes holding mine.

"Well…I didn't exactly—"

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. A loud knock cut my story short.

"Oh no," I sighed. "I thought I had more time."

"It's all right, my Lady," she assured me, though I could see her disappointment. "You can tell me another time."

"I will, Heather," I said, speaking over another series of loud knocks. "As soon as I can. I promise."

Giving her hands a small squeeze, I reluctantly rose from my chair and left the bedroom—just as the guards let themselves in, Felix in the lead.

"Ah," he smirked, "much better."

"Just do what you came to do," I said, impatience sharpening my tone.

His smile broadened as he stepped aside and gestured toward the door. I strode past him with all the dignity I could muster, though my steps felt heavy as stone.

.

As we approached the Council Chamber, the guards posted outside the double doors moved to allow me inside. Inwardly bracing myself, I entered the spacious room to find the entire Council already gathered there, seated in their usual places around the polished stone table. The torches cast them in a dramatic light, emphasizing the shadows in their solemn, even grim expressions. Across the room Ashton stood behind his chair, facing me with his arms crossed. His black and blood red garments aided his ominous appearance, making him look more sinister than ever.

I had barely entered the room when Renae stood up, anxiety deepening the lines in her face.

"Your Majesty—"

"Sit down," Ashton snapped. "Do not speak unless I address you."

Reluctantly she obeyed, slowly sinking back into her chair as the doors closed soundly behind me.

"Come, Zelda," Ashton then said, his tone dripping with feigned courteousness. "Have a seat."

He gestured to his chair—once my chair—and on the table I saw a sheet of paper, along with a quill, ink, a stamp, and wax for a seal. I swallowed, struggling to conceal my panic.

"What is this?" My voice sounded hollow to my ears.

"Oh, I think you know exactly what this is," he sneered. "I said I would dissolve your so-called marriage, and you know I'm a man of my word."

I managed a brief, humorless laugh, but just barely.

"Once again you are attempting to rewrite Hyrulean law," I said. "An annulment requires the mutual consent of both spouses; only both signatures can legally sever a marriage. What you want is impossible, even if I did sign."

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought my attention to Vasilis, who had risen from his chair.

"I'm afraid, your Majesty," he said, his tone bordering on enthusiastic, "that law applies only to the more traditional marriage—particularly that between a husband and wife of equal status. Your husband is merely a consort, and a man of common background. This annulment does not require his consent."

Icily I held his gaze, willing him to see the depths of my contempt. He was right, of course, but only Vasilis could deliver that argument with such relish. He had always wanted Link out of my life; it was a wonder he could stay seated at all.

"_I_ require his consent," I hissed. "The gods require his consent. My vows to him are sacred—you cannot force me to break them!"

"You know that means nothing to me," Ashton replied calmly, obviously pleased to see me upset.

"And if I refuse?" I shot back.

He shook his head and considered me with a hint of amusement, as though I were some ill-tempered child.

"You're really going to make me spell it out for you?" he mocked. "Very well. You have two options. One, you sign the annulment and become my betrothed, and in doing so return to the comfortable lifestyle you've always known. Or, two, you rot in your cell until whatever insanity chaining you to that man has left you. Or at least until I kill him. I will have you either way, so I recommend you spare yourself more unnecessary strife."

"Insanity," I echoed quietly. "That is what you call it? That's how you see it?"

"Enough," Ashton snapped. "We didn't gather here to explore our feelings. Guards!"

Two Vandelians snatched me by the arms and dragged me toward the table, forcing me into the empty chair. Before me lay the dreaded Letter of Annulment. I kept my eyes off it, looking instead into the faces of my Council, desperately wishing they would help me. Deep down, however, I knew they could not.

"Please, your Majesty," Renae dared to speak, "at least sign the paper; you're no good to anyone in the dungeons."

"Link wouldn't want you imprisoning yourself over a signature," Kinsley added. I met his gaze, noticing the redness in his eyes. It seemed learning of Link's survival had brought him to tears.

"You don't understand," I whispered, not trusting myself to speak. _It's not just a signature._

That I could even consider an annulment disturbed me. Doing so would be nothing short of betrayal. Link had chosen to cast aside his freedom and share a tumultuous life with me, and he had never looked back. As my husband he had endured discrimination and general disrespect, yet he never once regretted our marriage. Despite the fact that he lived in my shadow, and the shadow of my father, Link had shown me unconditional love and support.

How could I possibly throw that away? How could I ever hurt him?

_Stop, stop_, a voice chided in my head. _It wouldn't mean anything. What's a signature on a piece of paper? You're not _marrying_ Ashton; you're just…stalling for time._

But Link wouldn't see it that way. He had often worried politics would inevitably force us apart, and I had always assured him I would never allow it.

_And here I sit, making a liar of myself._

"Zelda."

I started when Ashton leaned toward me, irritation darkening his gaze.

"I'm only going to tell you this once more," he growled. "Make your choice."

I hesitated, blinking back tears as my powerlessness overwhelmed me. Renae's words rang in my ears again and again.

"_...you're no good to anyone in the dungeons."_

I thought of Link's ominous scar, and the repetitive visions that still plagued my dreams. I thought of Link's captor and his dark, mysterious intentions.

_I can't go back._

I couldn't lock myself in that cell, cut off from the world and the needs of my people. Kinsley was right; Link wouldn't want that for me.

_I'm no good to anyone there._

Ashton pulled away with a frustrated growl.

"You disappoint me yet again, Zelda. Bring her to her cell."

The guards grabbed my arms, pulling me up out of the chair.

"Wait!" I cried as they dragged me back toward the door. "Stop!"

"Guards," Ashton spoke.

They paused, loosening their grip, and angrily I tore away.

"All right," I said, failing to hide the quiver in my voice. "I'll sign it."

He studied me a moment, a slow, satisfied smile tugging at his lips.

"And she finally comes to her senses," he said. "Well go on then; put it in writing."

I shot him a cold glance and returned to my chair. Slowly I sank into it, my eyes glancing over the official document on the table. Then I started from the top, reading slowly and painstakingly, desperate to find some sort of loophole.

Silence settled upon the chamber, and my heart pounded so loudly I feared the others would hear it. My eyes combed through the cold, concise paragraphs stating the marital laws of Hyrule before finally ending with the official declaration:

_I, Zelda Ariadne Harkinian, Queen of Hyrule, hereby consent to the annulment of my marriage to Link Harkinian, Prince Consort of Hyrule._

I stared at the words, swallowing the painful lump which had formed in my throat. My eyes fell to the blank space awaiting my signature, and the letters began to blur. I blinked a few times, releasing a shaky breath as my vision cleared.

"Sign it, Zelda," Ashton's impatient voice broke through my trance. "I've had enough of your stalling."

I jumped when a hand suddenly appeared to take my untouched quill. Quickly the guard dipped it in the ink bottle and offered it to me. I took it with a trembling hand, my eyes falling back to the document.

Then slowly, tentatively, I pressed the quill to its dry surface, my heart growing heavier with each stroke. Writing proved a challenge for my trembling hand, but I managed it—slowly. How strange it was, that such power could lie in a mere name. With each letter I felt myself unraveling something beautiful, permitting something terrible…

Finishing the final arc of my last name—the name Link and I still shared—I set down my quill and weakly leaned back against the chair.

Ashton stepped forward and stamped the Hylian seal down hard, right next to my signature.

It was done.

"There," he breathed, holding the paper in both hands. "Isn't that just beautiful."

Then he took me by the chin, forcing my gaze up to his.

"Soon you will be mine," he said, his eyes bright with triumph, "and all will be right again."

I turned my face away, too exhausted to do worse.

"This concludes our meeting," he addressed the ministers. "You are excused. Guards, escort my fiancée to her chambers."

Silently the ministers stood and filed out of the room. I also rose to my feet, moving beyond the Vandelians' grasp before they could take my arms.

"This isn't over," I said to Ashton's back, finding strength in my voice. "Link will come for you. And he will defeat you, especially now that your staff is gone."

Ashton paused mid-step, then turned to me with an amused expression.

"Gone?" He gave a short laugh. "You mean all this time you've been congratulating yourself for destroying my staff?" He gave another heartier laugh, and his genuine amusement unnerved me. "You failed, Zelda. I had that staff well protected months ago. It'll take far more than a little fireball to destroy it, even from you."

I stared at him, feeling as though the room had tilted sideways.

_I failed…?_

"Oh, Zelda," he sighed, shaking his head. "You are a pitiful little thing. But now it's time you returned to your chambers. We have a busy day ahead of us."

Casting me one more smirk, he turned and left the chamber, leaving the guards to usher me into the hall. I walked in a daze, struggling to believe what I had done—and not done.

_I failed…_

.

Once we had reached my chambers, the guards took their usual places at my door while I closed it behind me. I proceeded straight for my bedroom, longing for its familiar sanctuary.

Through my miserable and exhausted haze I noticed Heather curled up on one of the chairs, sound asleep. She had waited there for my return, but I did not move to wake her. I felt so tired I could barely think; I had no energy left for conversation.

I stepped into my bedroom and quietly closed the door, leaning against it as I listened to the silence. Then slowly I slid to the floor, gazing unseeingly at the room's elegant furnishings. Link's belongings had yet to be retrieved from Impa's chambers where Heather had stored them. The room looked so much emptier without them…

My eyes fell to my hand, to the faded pink mark where my wedding ring had been. I had removed it at Ashton's command—I couldn't risk him taking it away. Now, after what I had done, its absence mocked my gnawing guilt.

I could barely believe how wrong everything had gone. Two weeks ago I had set out to aid Link, yet in the end I only hurt him. I had risked my own safety to earn nothing but imprisonment and then sacrificed my marriage to regain my limited freedom.

Had I really done it for him? For my people? Or had I acted upon nothing but my own selfish instincts? I no longer knew for certain, and with that doubt came a powerful wave of self-loathing.

_You're a disgrace. You failed to destroy the staff and then divorced the man who loves you more than anything. You cast him aside, just as everyone predicted you would—just as he feared you would._

_You have betrayed him._

I covered my face with my hands and burst into tears, desperate to quell the terrible ache inside. I sobbed freely, my breath escaping in sharp, trembling gasps. My helplessness consumed me. I feared what would happen before the world finally righted itself again. Ashton had woven a thick web around my life, and the harder I tried to break free of him the more entwined I became.


	23. Chapter XXIII

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXIII

That morning the throne room filled at an earlier hour. Nearly the entire court had gathered, wearing extravagant gowns and curious expressions. Ashton had invited them to hear his "important announcement"—as if they needed a reason.

Solemnly I followed him into the crowded chamber, flanked as always by guards. Dressed in a tight and unsophisticated violet gown—a "gift" Ashton had forced me to wear—I felt uncomfortable, anxious, and ill. Of course he meant to expose Link and the annulment, but I knew he would do so with elaborately crafted lies. The Council's apparent absence did nothing to soothe my fears.

The chatter quieted down as Ashton and I stood before the throne. There he waited a moment longer, making sure all eyes had settled upon him.

"My most distinguished lords and ladies," he addressed the crowd, spreading his arms with a smile. "Thank you for attending on such short notice. As you were informed, I have an important announcement to make. The news I bring you is appalling, but I assure you I will do everything in my power to make it right."

The nobles waited in silence, their empty smiles fading with concern.

"Several months ago, I assured you the imposter you once called your prince had been captured in battle and killed shortly after. Well," he added, his voice darkening. "It turns out we have all been deceived."

A collective gasp passed through the crowd as they exchanged alarmed looks.

"Yes," Ashton said, "the peasant lives. It would seem he staged his own death and fled. He's dwelled in the shadows all these months disguised as the outlaw, Shade."

Again the nobles gasped, their shock escalating to outrage.

"Why would he do such a thing?" a masculine voice I didn't recognize called out.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Ashton clasped my shoulder in a warning grip.

"Why indeed," he answered in a low voice. "The Council and I have discussed the matter at length, and we believe he planned this from the start. We suspect he went so far as to cause the recent war."

"That's a lie!" I cried, tearing out of his reach. "How _dare_ you accuse him of such evil? Link is wholly devoted to his people; he would never bring war upon us! You're the warmonger—your history speaks for itself!"

More low murmurs passed through the crowd, but Ashton merely smiled, refusing to let me rile him. Already he held that advantage.

_Calm, just stay calm._

"Such blind devotion," he said. "If you want to discuss history, let's take a good look at your so-called prince. He became a soldier at fourteen, and within a decade he had clawed his way to the top—most likely with the aid of his questionable magic. All the while he had his eye fixed on you—you and your throne. Then, as luck would have it, your father gave him your hand in marriage and conveniently passed away."

Mentally I checked myself, struggling to control the passionate defense welling inside me.

"Link earned his way to the top because he is a highly intelligent and gifted man," I argued. "He uses those gifts to serve his kingdom. My father recognized him to be a man of kingly character; that is why he gave his blessing.

"And Link never _sought_ the throne," I added sharply. "As my husband he believed it was his duty to work toward kingship. He would have been crowned years ago if not for the prejudice against his humble origins. Link and I maintained peace until you came back with your vengeance."

"Peace?" Ashton scoffed. "That is what you considered it? Need I remind you of the controversy your marriage brought? It was no less than a slap in the face to the kingdoms of the Alliance. Thankfully that was where your peasant's rapid rise to power ended. Two years later he remained your consort yet no closer to becoming your king."

Ashton turned back to our stunned audience, anger lining his face. "The Council and I believe he tired of earning their approval and searched for a quicker, more effective way to claim the throne—to seize it through war."

My heart sank as I watched the heated discussion amidst my court. The anger in their faces, their sharp, accusatory tones—all of it was directed at Link. I didn't spare a chance of defending him, not while they so willingly believed Ashton's lies. Still I had to try, at least once more.

"Link would never—"

"My sources tell me this criminal has begun creating an underground Resistance," Ashton cut me off. "His plot has already begun to take root. But nothing will come of it; let me assure you. I will crush this resistance and clear out the traitors before the wedding next month. Consider that a promise!"

The people applauded him, voicing their approval, and I could barely stop myself from running out of the room. The air felt suddenly stuffy, even despite the room's massive size, and I lost the strength to continue my debate.

_Your words mean nothing to this crowd. _They would much rather hate Link than accept him.

Ashton raised his hands, and the applause quieted.

"As for the queen's preexisting marriage, I have already put an end to it. Her Majesty is neither a widow nor wife to anyone, but she is now officially my betrothed. Expect a grand celebration of our engagement in the near future, but for now, let us celebrate the end of this era and the new beginning I shall bring to Hyrule. Come, join me for an early feast in the dining halls."

He gestured toward the door, where a group of attendants stood waiting. The nobles obeyed with enthusiasm, their renewed chatter echoing through the chamber. I knew the topic of Link's alleged crimes would continue during the meal. My discomfort had worsened into nausea, and I had no appetite for food or conversation. I longed only to return to my bed and crawl back under the covers.

"Zelda." I jumped when Aston touched my cheek. Instinctively I backed away, much to his amusement.

"You are expected to attend, dearest," he murmured. "Come, we don't want to keep our guests waiting."

"I don't feel well," I said, looking away toward the floor. "I wish to return to my chambers."

"Oh, do you now?" he mocked, moving closer. "Well, I wouldn't want you spoiling my party. Perhaps I'll let you retreat this once… if you ask nicely."

I hesitated, knowing precisely what he wanted. Given only two options, I chose the way out—aggravating though it was.

"I wish to return to my chambers," I muttered again, still staring toward the floor. "…Please."

I tensed when he took my chin, forcing me to meet his satisfied gaze.

"Hm," he murmured. "Not much of a plea, but polite at least. I suppose it will do…for now."

His lips hovered dangerously close to mine, which did nothing to ease my nausea. Then he moved toward my ear, entwining his bejeweled fingers in my long hair. His body kept me pinned against the throne; I had nowhere to run. I felt suddenly small and weak compared to him, and the frustration brought tears to my eyes.

"Next time," he warned, his hot breath in my ear, "look at me when you speak."

Then he pulled away with a murmured laugh, trailing a lock of my hair in his hand. I remained standing, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Run along now," he said. "My pitiful little flower."

I did so, taking hurried strides toward the exit before he could change his mind. I practically stumbled through the halls, drying my eyes before anyone could see. I felt anxious and vulnerable, surrounded by Ashton's treacherous followers—even the servants could no longer be trusted.

_And my people? What will they think once they learn of the annulment?_ Vividly I remembered the day of Link's funeral, how the crowd had gathered in protest.

"_You have betrayed him! You have betrayed us all!"_

My rule had crumbled beneath me, and now my court—what remained of my court—had labeled Link a self-serving outlaw.

The Hero of Time, reduced to a criminal.

The common people would never believe such lies, but I had officially become the enemy.

I reached my chambers and slammed the door, rushing for the bathroom as my nausea grew more intense. I grabbed the edge of the sink and bent over, coughing while my body dry heaved. Nothing came of it—I hadn't eaten anything since my last bowl of gruel in my prison cell.

Shakily I sank to the floor, struggling to catch my breath. Tears blurred my vision, and I let them slide down my face.

"My Lady?"

I turned to see Heather in the doorway, her brow raised in genuine concern.

"Heather," I croaked. "Could you bring me a glass of water?"

She hurried off and quickly returned to hand me a cool glass. I took it in both hands, sipping the water and waiting for my nausea to subside.

"Thank you," I whispered, dragging my sleeve across my brow and drying my tears. "I'll be all right."

"My Lady, what could have made you so ill?"

I shook my head and swallowed. "It's not as bad as it was before. I think Ashton put something in my food while I was imprisoned. Something to help force my surrender."

"What a horrible thing to do…"

"I think it may help if I eat something," I murmured. "Something gentle."

"Some toast, maybe? That's always worked for me…"

"Toast would be nice," I said, my voice just above a whisper. "But please help me out of this ridiculous dress first."

Heather took my glass and set it aside to help me up off the floor. Then quickly she undid the cords in the back, and I sighed as the bodice fell away. Content to rest in nothing but my shift, I stepped into the bedroom and pulled a few pins from my hair, setting them in the bedside table. Then I slipped under the bedcovers, closing my eyes as I nestled against the pillows.

"Your water is right here, my Lady," I heard Heather's gentle voice. "I'll be right back with some toast and tea."

I meant to thank her, but managed only a tired murmur. I fell asleep before she left the room.

.

The clinking of china woke me, and I opened my eyes to find Heather setting a tray on my bedside table.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't know whether to wake you…"

I shook my head and sat up, groggily rubbing my eyes. "I should eat something."

She nodded and placed the tray on the bed.

"I brought you toast with a touch of butter and cinnamon. And some tea of course."

"Thank you," I murmured, taking the steaming teacup she offered. "Heather, I can't bear to imagine how terrible these past few months would have been without you."

"It's the least I can do," she mumbled as a blush colored her cheeks.

I breathed in the tea's herbal scent, letting it clear my head.

"…I think it's time I told you everything," I said softly.

Intrigued, she sat down on the side of the bed. "Everything, my Lady?"

I nodded solemnly. "Heather... Do you think I've been handling my husband's death well?"

My question obviously surprised her.

"Very well!" she exclaimed. "I… I doubt I would have such strength if I lost Adam."

"Hm," I gave a sad smile, still gazing into my cup. "I'm not as strong as you think."

"My Lady, you're much too hard on yourself…"

I shook my head and sighed. "I fear I might have fallen to pieces by this point, had things gone differently. You see…" I paused, my face breaking into a brighter, more genuine smile. "My Link is alive."

Heather's jaw fell open, and a few seconds passed before she remembered her manners and closed it.

"I… I can't believe it," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. "He survived the war? But Ashton said…"

"Ashton has yet to speak the truth when it comes to my husband."

"How... How long have you known?"

"A few months now. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you; I had to protect him as long as I could."

"Of course... But does Ashton know? Is that why he imprisoned you?"

I sighed. "He does know. He made the official announcement just this morning. I imagine his words will spread like wildfire."

"I just have so many questions!" Heather stammered. "What has happened to him? Where has he been all this time?"

I lowered my gaze, my smile fading. "He was held prisoner for several weeks," I murmured. "But he escaped—"

"He escaped?" she breathed. "I'm sorry; I interrupted you—of course he escaped."

I smiled gently. "Not only that, but he and the mysterious Shade are one and the same."

Again her mouth fell open. "That's... amazing..." she said. "Like something out of a storybook..."

"Yes... but I'm afraid the fairytale ends there."

"What do you mean?"

I hesitated, fingering my teacup. "Last night... Ashton forced me to—" I paused when my voice hitched. Discussing my annulment made it painfully real all over again.

"What did he do?" she whispered, her hazel eyes wide with fear.

"He annulled our marriage," I whispered. "…Link is no longer my husband. Not legally."

"That's... that's terrible," Heather murmured, though I could tell she had feared something worse. "But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised..."

I nodded solemnly. "I knew it would come. It didn't make it any easier."

Gently she touched my hand. "You can make it right again, though; can't you? Once Ashton is gone?"

"I certainly hope so," I sighed. "But it will break Link's heart either way. I do wish I could see him, just to make sure he's all right... It's not like him to do something rash, but he's only mortal. We all give in to our emotions one time or another."

"Can't you get away? Like before?"

Sadly I shook my head. "I have no idea where he is. And I won't risk Ashton's wrath on a wild goose chase."

"Could anyone help you find him?"

"Siena, maybe, but I can't reach her without Ashton knowing I'd left the castle. And if I were caught… I can't endanger her like that."

Heather sighed and fell silent while I nibbled a piece of toast.

"Would you risk Ashton's wrath if you knew where Prince Link was?"

"…That would depend on where he was," I said slowly. "But yes… after everything that's happened… I would risk it."

Heather smiled. "Don't worry, my Lady; I'm sure you'll find a way."

I sighed. "I hope you're right, Heather. I really do."

**xxxxxxx**

The castle chapel had always been a place of refuge. It had captivated me since I was a small child—but I was hardly privy to its beauty. Even those who had never stepped inside the chapel knew of its magnificent stained-glass windows. Vibrant and elaborately designed, these enormous windows captured scenes of great importance to Hyrulean history.

On the far back wall, high above the altar, gleamed the largest of the three main windows, which featured a scene portraying the origin of Hyrule. It showed three golden arch-goddesses—Din, Nayru, and Farore—breathing life into barren darkness to create a green paradise filled with life and beauty. The Triforce shone above them, symbolizing their ultimate gift to Hyrule. All Hylians knew this symbol's significance to the royal family, but only a select few knew—or suspected—the actual relic truly existed.

To the right of this stunning scene gleamed a smaller window of near equal beauty. This one featured a young man and woman kneeling back to back, their heads bowed in prayer. Both wore simple white clothing, and each knelt within two rings of candles bearing red, blue, and green flames. This scene portrayed the sacred Rites of Kingship and Queenship—the ceremony Ashton had refused to perform. The ancient laws required that all successors to the throne must pass their Rite before they could wear the crown. For it was through this ancient ceremony that the arch-goddesses bestowed their blessing upon the royal family—or asserted their rejection.

Two years ago Link and I had hoped to perform our Rites together, just as the window's scene portrayed, but the Council had forced me to do so alone. Only time would tell whether Link would ever perform his own Rite.

Facing this scene on the opposite wall shone another window of equal size. This one featured seven aged Hylians forging a gleaming sword with a royal blue hilt. This was the Master Sword, another sacred gift to Hyrule, forged by the sages of old. The beautiful goddess Hylia, servant only to Din, Nayru, and Farore, watched over them with a face of pure serenity. Legend said it was she who had embedded the sword with its mystical power. It was she who had chosen the first Hero and offered him the Blade of Evil's Bane.

The Legend of the Hero was known to every Hylian, but only children truly believed in it. Little did they know that the current Hero of Time walked among them, bearing the title of Lord General, Prince of Hyrule. Our people would never know Link's true identity, not unless he drew the Master Sword, and he would do so only if Hyrule's fate demanded it.

In addition to these three main windows were some smaller ones. They lined the walls back toward the entranceway, capturing the multiple races and cultures of Hyrule. Our rich diversity was something to be celebrated, and saddened me how prejudiced the royal court had become over so many generations.

Within the chapel stood rows of prie-deius, separated into two sections by a blue-carpeted aisle. At the end of this aisle stood a beautiful altar carved from pure white marble. The back had been hollowed out, creating a space to store scrolls and books containing copies of Hyrulean prayers and prophesies of old.

Everything had changed after Ashton stormed my castle and invaded my life, but I still found sanctuary within the chapel walls. I visited almost every day to pray.

I had come that morning, kneeling as always at one of the front prie-dieus. My head was bowed, my forehead pressed to my clasped hands. I had no complaints for the gods—Link's survival remained more than enough to sustain me through the difficulties of my daily life. I prayed with gratitude and asked only for guidance. I longed for a sign, some way I could stop Ashton before his dark influence took a devastating toll. The more obvious, violent ideas had already crossed my mind, but I could not afford to ignite further war. My kingdom needed time to mend and reunite before my soldiers could take up arms against anyone.

I knew Link and I could restore Hyrule to her former glory. But fate had dealt him a hard blow, one neither of us really understood. It killed me to stand by while he struggled.

_But what can I do? Am I truly meant to stay here at the castle…?_

"My Lady?"

I yelped and jerked so violently I nearly fell off my kneeler. There stood Heather, looking almost as startled as me.

"Heather," I gasped, pressing a hand to my pounding heart. "You scared the life out of me. What are you doing here? This is a private prayer session…"

"I know—and I'm so sorry to intrude—but I wanted to tell you as soon as possible…"

I furrowed my brow. "Tell me what?"

She knelt down beside me, her hazel eyes bight with eagerness.

"That I know where you can find Prince Link," she whispered, grinning broadly.

I stared, then blinked. "You... You know?" I studied her closely, unsure whether to feel alarmed or excited. "But how?"

"I asked Lady Siena," she beamed. "You couldn't reach her, but I can."

"Heather, that could be dangerous," I whispered. "You're my personal attendant; someone could be watching..."

She nodded. "Please don't worry, my Lady... I knew I had to be very, very careful, so I visited every inn in Castletown, pretending I was looking for a potential job for Adam. Lady Siena recognized me when I reached The Red Phoenix, and we managed to communicate in code. I was afraid she wouldn't tell me anything, but she trusted me."

I fell silent a moment, digesting her words.

"She trusts you because she knows I do," I murmured. "Heather... you went through all this trouble for me?"

"Of course," she blushed. "I wanted to."

Gently I stroked her cheek. "You sweet, wonderful girl," I whispered. "What did Siena tell you?"

"That he'll be in Kakariko Village," she whispered back, her pink blush darkening. "Tomorrow night. But he's only meeting some people there; he never stays long. Lady Siena thinks he'll be gone before dawn."

"Kakariko," I murmured. _I could teleport directly to the cemetery…_

"That's all I found out, I'm afraid," Heather added, looking worried. "Lady Siena didn't know any more details..."

"That's all right," I smiled gently. "I think I know where to look."

She brightened, nearly forgetting to keep her voice down. "Then you can go see him?"

"I'll certainly think about it," I assured her. "But you must go, before we rouse suspicion..."

Gently I ushered her away from the altar, only to pause after a few steps.

"Heather, what did you tell the guards before they let you inside?"

"I told them a family member of mine has fallen ill, and that I needed to request some time away from my duties to help. That way, if you give me the time off, it won't look so suspicious when you leave."

I pondered a moment, both impressed and nervous. "You've done well," I told her quietly. "I can see you've really thought this through. But it still makes me nervous... I don't want anything to happen to you."

I took her hand then, giving her a sad smile. "I'm giving you a week off."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, my Lady, I didn't—"

"You will need that much time to help with a sick relative. And if something should go wrong when I leave I don't want you involved."

"But—"

"Listen to me. If I should end up in some kind of trouble, you must not come back. I mean it, Heather; I don't want you involved. Promise me you won't."

She hesitated, then sighed.

"All right... I promise."

I smiled then, sadly. "Thank you," I gave her hand a light squeeze. "For everything."

Then, to my utter surprise, Heather moved to wrap me in a tight, genuine embrace. I blinked, initially startled, but then warmly returned it.

"I'll return in seven days, then." She smiled as she pulled away. "No later."

"And no sooner," I smiled back. "Try to enjoy yourself. Will you be with your parents?"

"No," her face saddened. "I'll stay with Adam's parents, but I will try to visit my own."

"I wish you luck."

"You too."

Then, after giving me one final smile, she was gone.

I sighed and turned to gaze up toward the largest stained-glass window, the one featuring the three golden goddesses.

"Thank you," I whispered to them.

**xxxxxxx**

I sat on the edge of my bed, dressed in a simple, dark tunic and a black cloak. A satchel hung from my shoulder, containing only Link's hookshot. In my pocket lay Link's wedding ring—the second item I wished to return to him. In my hands I cradled the Ocarina of Time, my only way out of the castle.

The many hours leading up to that moment had dragged by, especially since Heather had gone. Anxious and lonely, I had endured the enthusiastic chatter about my upcoming wedding—which Ashton had already begun to plan. Of course he intended to make a grand spectacle of it. He had waited almost his whole life to claim me, and he intended to do so before as many important people as possible.

But finally the sun had set. Darkness had cloaked the land, and somewhere in Kakariko Link had come within my reach.

My heart fluttered, caught somewhere between excitement and apprehension.

_Calm down. You have to find him first._

I exhaled loudly, then brought the Ocarina to my lips. Softly I played the Nocturne of Shadow, letting its sad, haunting melody envelope me as the room faded into violet light.

Then I opened my eyes and blinked, adjusting to the sudden darkness of my new surroundings.

Before me stood a short, crosshatched fence. I stepped toward it, scanning my surroundings with narrowed eyes. I stood on a small ledge which rose several feet above the cemetery. Rows of gravestones stretched out below, eerily pale amidst the darkness. Behind me stood the entrance to what most people believed was a small prayer chamber. In reality, that small chamber contained a secret door which led into a sprawling underground house of the dead—the Shadow Temple.

But Link would never conduct business there. The place was crawling with angry spirits, and dangerous traps marked every corner. As the Sage of Shadow, Impa had tried numerous times to expel the spirits, but more always seemed to emerge.

Seeing I was alone, I slipped the Ocarina back into my satchel and leaped over the fence, quietly landing in the overgrown grass below. Before me stood three larger, more elaborate tombstones, each marked with the Hylian crest. Two belonged to famous composers—brothers in fact. They had onceserved the royal family, assigned to study our hereditary, mystic powers. But sadly they had died before completing their research. The residents of Kakariko claimed to have seen their restless spirits still haunting their graves, waving their batons at empty air. Link had encountered them once himself, back when he was just a child.

I had no desire to meet them. Instead I rushed onward, ignoring the prickly feeling on the back of my neck. I hurried past the many rows of graves and on toward the village, glad to leave Kakariko's eerie cemetery behind.

A narrow passageway between two steep cliffs joined the village to its graveyard—the only path between the two locations. Cautiously I crept close to the wall, watching for any visitors. Finding a cloaked young woman leaving the graveyard in the dead of night would seem suspicious indeed. I could not afford to draw the attention of any guards—or anyone, for that matter.

Fortunately I left the passageway without incident, and the narrow path opened up to reveal a large village. Countless buildings of all shapes and sizes cascaded down the base of Death Mountain, dotted with cozy, glowing windows. I lingered there a minute, admiring the familiar view with a soft smile. I assumed many of the lights belonged to inns or taverns. Most families would be asleep at that hour, and the shops had closed hours ago.

Kakariko had grown quite large over the recent years, too large to be called a village, but the name had so far remained unchanged. While its buildings could not compete with the grandeur of Castletown, its overall size and charm could. What used to be a grassy meadow near the village entrance had long been covered in cobblestones. They extended throughout the entire village, weaving paths between the countless rows of buildings. An old, gnarly tree stood at the center of that cobblestone square, surrounded by a beautiful garden. There visitors could enjoy a perfect view of the entire village, particularly its most beloved feature—the old windmill.

I could see none of this, however, as I had entered from another side of the village. Just a short distance from my location stood Impa's old house. She had been born and raised in Kakariko, and, as the last Sheikah from that originally Sheikan village, she had always kept an active role there. She no longer lived in her old home, but it still belonged to her. She returned there on occasion to oversee her many projects within the village.

Being the mysterious woman she was, Impa had built secret rooms and niches into her home, all of them hidden by magic. She and Link could have easily arranged to use her house for Resistance activity.

A part of me worried that would be too obvious, but I had no other leads. So cautiously I approached the stairway leading up toward her house, which overlooked the lower half of Kakariko. Its windows were dark, but that was to be expected—

"You there! What are you doing?"

I froze and slowly turned, my heart pounding in my throat. Three men stood behind me, all of them garbed in silver Vandelian armor.

"I… I was just returning to the inn I'm staying at," I said softly, struggling to speak more commonly.

"At this time o'night?" the tallest asked.

"I… prefer to come at night… I feel closer to my mother's spirit."

They glanced at each other, clearly suspicious.

"Why are you wearing a hood?" the shortest guard demanded. "Show us your face."

I hesitated, but then pushed back the material, hoping they wouldn't recognize me in simple clothes. Refusing their demands would only raise suspicion.

They came closer, squinting in the darkness.

"There," I said nervously. "Now if you would let me—"

"Wait a minute," the short one murmured. "You look familiar…"

"Yeah…" the tallest chimed in. "You look kinda like…" He trailed off, glancing at the shorter guard with uncertainty.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I murmured, backing away. "Please, I'd like to return to my room now…"

"Yes," the short guard spoke again, moving closer. "You really do look like her… like the queen."

He snatched my arm, and instinctively I summoned my magic. I held it there, giving them a chance to back off before I hurt them. _I would have to take out all three at once…_

"We gotta take her directly to the boss," the taller guard spoke.

"Well of course we do," the shorter man snapped. Then he turned back to me, his eyes narrowed. "We'll let our leader deal with you—even if you are just a look-alike."

"Leader?" I echoed, furrowing my brow.

"You once called him your husband," he sneered. "If you're really the queen, that is."

Relief swept through me as their meaning clicked in place. "You're Resistance fighters."

"That's right," he replied. "Surprised?"

"I'm not a look-alike," I confessed. "I am who you think I am. Please, take me to my husband."

"He ain't your husband no more," the taller man spoke. "Not since you gave yourself to that Vandelian tyrant."

"You're nothing but a traitor," the shorter man added.

I stared at them, momentarily stunned. At first I thought to explain myself but quickly realized it was pointless.

"I don't expect you to understand," I finally said.

"Hmph, there's little to understand," the short man replied. "Now hand over your bag."

I hesitated, then complied. There was no reason to refuse, as long as the Ocarina remained within my grasp.

He opened it and pulled out the small blue instrument.

"What's this?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "Awfully pretty to be sneaking around with."

"That's none of your business," I said coldly. "Put it back."

He grinned and did so, then pulled out Link's hookshot.

"Ooh, this looks interesting…"

"That belongs to your leader," I snapped. "Put it back and stop wasting my time. I don't have all night."

He closed the satchel and glared at me.

"You forget, your Majesty, that you're _our _prisoner now."

He snapped his fingers, and the silent third member of their trio grabbed my arms from behind. Quickly the taller man moved to bind my wrists with rope.

"What are you doing?" I asked, keeping my voice calm. I could have easily slipped out of their amateur grasp, but I knew they would not harm me—certainly not before bringing me to Link.

"Tyin' you up, o'course," the taller man spoke near my ear.

"I have no reason to harm you."

"And we have no reason to trust you," the shorter man argued, pulling a dark strip of cloth from his pocket. "For all we know you could be here as a spy, taking advantage of our leader's personal attachment to you—if it still exists."

"I would never do anything to hurt him," I snapped.

"Is that right?" he inquired. "Well, it's a bit late for that; don't you think?"

I failed to counter his stinging remark as he tied the blindfold around my head.

"There. Can't have you telling your fiancé about our hideout now, can we?"

I rolled my eyes behind the cloth. _They really are amateurs._

"This is completely unnecessary," I told him. "I am on your side."

"Oh, yes," he replied, amusement coloring his tone. "Of course you are."

Their hushed laughter pricked my ears, and I fell into a gloomy silence.

_I suppose I can't blame them for viewing me this way._

Still, I was sure Link would be most displeased with their thuggish behavior. Becoming part of a larger, stronger group had clearly spawned the overconfidence they displayed.

They prompted me to walk, leading me onto the cobblestone pathway. Every now and then we switched direction, and I suspected they purposely led me along a meandering path to disorient me. Their precautions irritated me, but I kept silent. All around us the crickets chirped, accompanied by the occasional hoot of an owl. Loud music and the muffled buzz of conversation faded in and out at one point, and I knew we had passed an inn.

On and on we walked, walking up and down more than one stairway, until finally someone took me by the arm and led me forward. My foot touched a wooden board, and then—nothing.

"Ah—!"

I would have tumbled down what turned out to be steps, but the hand kept a firm grip on my arm.

"Watch your step there, Queenie," I heard the taller man's voice, followed by hushed laughter.

Quickly I regained my footing, swallowing my initial panic as I carefully descended the stairs. Several creaky steps later I reached solid ground—only to be led forward and up more stairs. I paused, breathing a sigh of exasperation.

"At least remove the blindfold," I snapped. "Before I trip and break my neck."

"Fine," the shorter man said.

Moments later I found myself standing in some type of cellar, but they ushered me up the steps before I could absorb my surroundings. We passed a few doors in a quiet corridor, weakly lit by hanging lanterns, before stopping at the last one. The shorter man knocked in a particular rhythm, then waited. Someone returned the knock from the other side, using a different rhythm. My captor knocked again, and the door opened. The taller man shoved me inside, and I stumbled, stopping myself before a wide table. Four cloaked men stood behind it—

Link was among them.

"Zelda?" he breathed, his blue eyes wide with shock. He flew to my side, his gaze moving from my face to my bound hands.

"You did this?" he demanded, glaring at the shortest of my captors.

The man jumped. "I—well—yes," he stammered. "She—she is with the enemy, isn't she?"

Link drew a knife from his belt—much to the man's alarm—and turned me around to cut my ropes with one swipe. I turned to face him as they fell away, and the concern in his eyes brought a lump to my throat.

"Are you all right?" he murmured, sheathing his knife and gently massaging my wrists.

I nodded, failing to find my voice.

"How did you know where to find me?" He sounded worried.

"Siena told me," I answered softly.

By now the other three men had gathered around us, whom I recognized as Lieutenants Theodus, Aiden, and Derrick.

"But how did you get here?" Theodus inquired, equally anxious.

"I teleported directly from my chambers. I was very careful; I would never put you at risk..."

"We found her heading away from the graveyard, Sir."

The shorter of my captors stepped forward, holding my satchel with both hands. "We confiscated this—"

Link snatched it from him. "How dare you treat her like this?" he snapped. "Binding her hands? Taking her things? She is your Queen!"

"She—She's betrayed you!" the man stammered, his eyes wide. "She's joined with the Vandelians—We thought you would want this—"

Another fierce look from their leader silenced him.

"You couldn't be more mistaken," Link said, his tone wrought with ice. "Ashton is the enemy; the Vandelians are the enemy. This woman you call a traitor is our only hope of reversing Ashton's tyranny. If the rumors about the annulment are true, then that means she chose Hyrule over me; do you understand? That isn't treachery; it's selflessness. She made a personal sacrifice for Hyrule—for people like you. How it affects me is irrelevant. She is still our Queen, and if you follow me, you follow her."

I stood off to the side, watching him through watering eyes. The passion in his voice rang through my ears and struck my core, but I didn't deserve a word of it.

Link glanced at me, and his stern face was but a mask, similar to the one I wore as Queen. I saw right through it, as he saw through mine.

Then he turned to his lieutenants.

"Find out what these men have been doing," he told them. "And keep them occupied. We can't risk any suspicious behavior tonight."

They respectfully acknowledged his request, their disapproving eyes moving to the three nervous men. Link's attention returned to me.

"Come on," he muttered, placing his hand on my back.

He led me across the hall into another empty room, closing the door behind us. It was dark inside, and I heard Link's footsteps as he moved to the center of the room. There a small flame sparked to life—a lamp he had lit with magic. It sat on a table, one of the few select furnishings. A bed sat against the far wall, and a small vanity occupied another. The walls were bare, and a thin layer of dust coated the furniture. The space clearly hadn't been used for some time.

Carefully Link set my satchel on the table, knowing the Ocarina lay inside. Then he turned to me, and in the lamplight I saw his face had softened. Still I waited, unsure of what to do. I ached for his touch, but I feared he would not give it. He could be such an enigma without the bond.

Then he reached for me. I rushed into his arms, and the walls I had kept reinforced day after day crumbled beneath his embrace.

"Link," I choked, clutching his back as I fought not to cry.

"Shh," he soothed, resting his cheek against my head. He held me possessively close, tenderly stroking my hair. His warmth brought a deep sense of calm, a sensation I hadn't felt in weeks…

Safety. I felt _safe_.

My tears began to subside as the knot in my chest loosened—if only a little. For a while we simply held each other, soaking in the other's presence before reality could seep back in. Finally I heard Link sigh before he gently pulled away.

"Let me look at you," he murmured, tipping my face up toward his.

I gazed into his eyes, swallowing as he wiped away the remnants of my tears. His thumb brushed my bruised cheek, then swept across my cut lip. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, and in his eyes I watched sorrow flare to rage.

"Ashton did this," he murmured. It was not a question.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Is there more I can't see?"

I shook my head. "This is all I let him do."

Again he sighed, trailing his fingers down my cheek.

"I didn't break secrecy," he told me softly. "The necromancer must have told him."

I nodded, my heart pulsing when his hand moved to the back of my neck.

"I feared he would hurt you," he whispered, his thumb caressing just below my ear. "I'm so sorry."

His mouth hovered so close to mine, his breath warming my lips. He didn't mean to tease me, but he was holding back. Beyond his tenderness some anger remained. It wasn't necessarily directed at me, but it hardened him nonetheless.

Still I ached to close the gap. In a rush of need I grabbed his collar and kissed him, murmuring against his unresponsive lips.

But he grasped my shoulders and forced us apart—gently. With a twinge of shame I released him, watching anxiously as he turned for the door. There he paused and pressed his hand flat against the wall near its frame.

"I'm sorry my men treated you the way they did," he said over his shoulder. "Many of my recruits like to act before they think."

A magical tremor passed through the room as he spoke, one I recognized as a barrier. His simple spell had soundproofed the walls, shutting out any eavesdroppers.

"It's all right," I replied softly. "They're loyal to you; that's all that matters."

He hesitated, then slid his hand off the wall before turning to lean against it.

"I see neither of us have our rings," he said bitterly. "How appropriate."

My heart skipped a beat when I remembered his ring.

"Actually," I said, hurriedly fishing into my pocket, "I did bring yours…"

Tentatively I crossed the room, holding out my hand.

"Will you wear it?"

My heart pounded as he eyed the gold piece held between my thumb and forefinger.

"What's the point?" he muttered. "It doesn't mean anything. Not anymore."

The knot in my chest tightened as he pulled away. I wanted to argue, to snap at him for degrading something so important to us, but I failed to find my voice.

Wearily he sank onto the bed, holding his head in his hands. My anger faded, replaced by sorrow. It saddened me to see him so dejected.

I placed the ring back in my pocket and went to sit beside him.

"Link," I tried again, staring down at my hands. "I know you're angry, but it's only a signature on a slip of paper. You must know I am still your wife in every sense of the word."

He lifted his head, and I knew I'd chosen the wrong words.

"Only a signature?" he echoed. "Zelda, that 'slip of paper' severed my legal claim to you. I realize we have been devoted to each other for over seven years, but until our marriage it was nothing but a dream. I could never call you my own, not until we had been legally bound." He turned away and swallowed, his eyes glistening in the lamplight. "I can't go back to that."

"We haven't gone back—"

"Yes we have," he said coldly, fixing his gaze toward the far wall. "We did the moment you signed your consent."

I sighed, struggling to find the right words. "Link, I have no intention of letting you go," I soothed, lifting a hand to stroke his cheek. "Things won't stay this way…"

He shook his head, his eyes distant. "So many wanted this," he murmured. "Your father made everything possible, but now he's gone, and I'm sure Ashton's reduced me to a villain in the eyes of the court."

I hesitated, remembering the lies Ashton had fed my court. The lies they had so willingly believed.

"Hasn't he, Zelda?"

I turned to see him watching me, his face filled with worry.

"What exactly did he say about me?" he pressed. "I want the truth."

I held his gaze, knowing anything but the truth would not help him.

"He…" I trailed off with a sigh. "This won't be easy to hear."

"I figured that much," he muttered. "Just tell me. Please."

In a quiet voice I repeated everything Ashton had said that morning in the throne room. Link listened intently, his eyes fixed on the floor. He remained silent when I finished, then gave a bitter laugh.

"It's all so logical," he whispered. "So believable."

"Link, you know their opinions have never stopped us before—"

"Zelda, it isn't that simple anymore!" he exclaimed. "Don't you understand? There are so many walls between us now—walls of every kind." Desperation lined his tired face. "I'm _losing_ you."

Tightly I grasped his hand. "You will never lose me," I said fervently. "Sooner or later those walls will come down; I promise you—"

But he tore away and rose to his feet.

"You promise?" he echoed, regaining his more bitter tone. "You can't _promise_ me anything. You've already broken our vows. What will you do when your wedding day arrives? Will you recite those same words to him? Will you let him threaten you into his bed?"

"Stop it," I said sharply, rising to meet his harsh gaze. "I would sooner rot in a cell. There's a considerable difference between signing my name and submitting my body."

Link softened, his anger fading back to sorrow.

"No, Zelda," he said in a hushed voice. "You can't lock yourself in a cell, certainly not for me. You are the Queen. Imprisoning yourself would mean abandoning your duties. You know what the scriptures say; you've seen the signs. Things are already beginning to fall apart. Eventually you would do whatever it took to maintain peace for our people."

I stared at him, my vision blurring with tears.

"What are you saying?" I whispered. "That I should just give up and do as Ashton wants?"

"No—gods no!" He gave a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I'm saying promises will not resolve this mess. Only actions will. My actions. If I don't find a way to end this soon, we'll lose far more than each other."

A heavy silence settled upon the room, and with heavy regret I recalled my attempt to destroy the staff. Link had needed that help more than anything, and I had failed him. There was no way I'd find another chance—Ashton would never make the same mistake twice.

The Resistance remained our only hope of regaining what Ashton had stolen, but more fighting would achieve nothing. Link needed a strategy, and I could see a solution had so far eluded him.

"Link," I said softly, "if there is anything, _anything_, I can do…"

He just shook his head.

"You're too tightly wound in his web."

His words sent a disturbing chill down my spine, and rebelliousness swelled within me.

"Then I'll use it to my advantage," I hissed. "I'll slit Ashton's throat before I let him cause even a shadow of the Imprisoning War. He doesn't think I can do it, but I would. You know I would."

Link stared at me, momentarily taken aback.

"I'd rather it didn't come to that," he whispered.

A quiet knock sounded at the door, diverting our attention. Link cast me a quick glance and moved to answer it. Solemnly I followed, standing behind him to listen.

"Pardon my interruption, Sir," Aiden's voice drifted from the hall. "But I've just received an urgent message for you."

"What is it?" Link asked, masking his anxiousness.

"This might sound like utter nonsense," Aiden nervously replied, "but a very large, erm, _talking_ owl just showed up by our window… He reported that something called the 'Kokiri' is under attack."


	24. Chapter XXIV

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXIV

"Under attack?" Link echoed, his voice hushed with shock. "By Vandelians?"

"He—the owl—didn't say," Aiden replied. "Sir, what is the Kokiri? I've never heard of it..."

"It's an area deep within the Lost Woods," Link answered, "protected from the outside world by powerful magic."

"But how—"

"There isn't time for explanations, Lieutenant. I need you and the others to return to the base—immediately."

"The base is under attack?" Aiden's voice rose with panic.

"I don't know, but we must prepare for the worst. Gather as many as you can and go—Zelda and I will teleport directly to the Kokiri."

"But…won't you need assistance?"

"I'll come to you if we do. Now go, and remember to be discreet."

Aiden nodded. "Yes, Sir." Then, swallowing his lingering questions, he left.

Link turned to me. "Wait here," he said. "Have the Ocarina ready."

He left before I could respond, vanishing into the room across the hall. I moved toward the table, nervously slipping the satchel over my shoulder.

_What is going on...?_

The possibility of an attack on the Kokiri baffled me. As a secret tribe of Hyrule, they were protected by the enchanted Lost Woods—just as Link had said. One could never simply wander into the Kokiri Forest. The Great Deku Tree, guardian of the forest and its inhabitants, maintained the powerful spells that made the Lost Woods a dangerous and endless labyrinth to anyone but the Kokiri.

Only two people had ever reached the heart of the Lost Woods unharmed. Link's mother had done so by the will of the gods, and Ganondorf by his own dark magic. He, too, had attacked the Kokiri—and the Deku Tree itself.

_Could Ashton possibly wield such power?_

Link returned within moments, a sword strapped to his belt. In his hand he carried a bow and a large quiver of arrows, which he gave to me.

"I'll handle the direct combat," he said, his eyes meeting mine. "Will you cover me?"

I could see he was shaken by the incident, though he hid it well.

"Of course," I replied softly. Quickly I slung the weapons over my shoulder and fished into my satchel, pulling out the Ocarina of Time. "Here."

Link took it from my offered hand and opened his arms, letting me wrap my arms around his waist. I pressed my cheek to his chest, familiar with the routine from our days of courtship. Satisfied with my tight grip, Link lifted the Ocarina to his lips—just above my head—and played the light, cheerful notes of the "Minuet of the Forest." I closed my eyes, bracing myself as magical energy charged the air. Link lowered the instrument and clutched me to him just before we vanished.

The strange, swooping sensation I'd become so accustomed to passed, and within moments my feet touched solid ground. Slowly Link pulled away, his hand lingering on my arm as I steadied myself. Teleportation was not the gentlest method of travel.

We stood in a moonlit meadow, shrouded in secrecy by magic and old trees. Before us stretched a narrow stairway, trapped between two steep cliffs. Behind us loomed the ruined entrance to an enormous structure covered in vines and worn with age—the Forest Temple. It had once been a grand location used by our ancestors, but it had been long since been claimed by the Lost Woods. Only Saria, Sage of the Forest and a dear friend, visited its empty and somewhat eerie interior.

The Sacred Forest Meadow, the place to which we had teleported, stood quiet and still. A gentle breeze rustled the dark trees, whispering among their leaves. Everywhere fireflies drifted about, leaving faint trails of light.

My heart swelled with admiration. I had not seen the Lost Woods for months, and I realized then how much I missed walking its labyrinth with Link. Dangerous though it was, the Lost Woods held an ethereal sense of beauty—by day and by night.

But we had no time to soak in our surroundings. Link handed me the Ocarina, I returned it to my satchel, and immediately we took off for the stairway, descending back into the Woods. Despite my many visits there, I could never navigate its twisted paths alone. The old magic protecting the Kokiri would surely ensnare me first. But Link had lived with the Kokiri from infancy to adolescence. The Lost Woods surrounded the place he had once called home, and he had spent years memorizing its winding maze. And, as an adopted child of the Deku Tree, Link remained immune to its dangerous enchantments.

Eventually we passed a small but deep pool, which served as a portal to Zora's River. A few twists and turns later we passed a tall stone archway—another portal leading directly into Goron City.

Then finally Link and I emerged from the dense trees, stopping dead before a small fence marking the edge of a cliff. Below us opened a large clearing, surrounded by thick forest on all sides. In this clearing sat a dozen humble wooden homes—all of them in flames. Through the clouds of smoke I spied skeletal figures skulking about. My heart leapt to my throat.

_Stalfos_.

"Quick, play the Song of Storms," Link said, his voice low with anger. "I'm going in."

Then he leapt over the fence, landing in a crouch a few feet below. I pulled out the Ocarina, watching as he drew his sword and cautiously approached the enemy.

My eyes combed the village as I played the song, but found not a single Kokiri anywhere. I knew Link shared my prayer: _Please let the Kokiri be safe elsewhere._

I finished the song and pulled my hood over my head, glancing up toward the black sky. Within seconds dark clouds had rolled in, veiling the full moon. A clap of thunder shook the heavens, and the rain began to fall. A few measly drops quickly grew into a heavy downpour, successfully dousing the fire.

Then I reached for my bow and nocked it, peering through the rain as I nervously searched for Link. I caught a glimpse just as he severed a stalfos in two and whipped around to slice another. I raised my bow, aiming for a stalfos coming a short distance behind him. Slowly I pulled, testing the bowstring's limit as I infused the arrow with magic...

Then I released, watching the arrow cut the darkness like a shooting star. It pierced my target and shattered the stalfos to pieces.

I nocked another, summoning my magic before letting it fly. Three more enemies fell to my blazing arrows, but after shooting a fifth my vision suddenly swerved. Exhaustion swept over me, and quickly I grasped the rail to steady myself.

_What...?_

I shook my head, willing the dizziness to pass. Then, taking a deep breath, I reached back into my quiver.

But the dizziness returned when I tried to use my magic, so reluctantly I stopped. Instead I aimed for a stalfos closer to Link and fired a regular, non-magical arrow. It struck true, and the stalfos stumbled before Link swung for the kill.

This alternative strategy proved effective enough. Soon the last stalfos had fallen, its bones vanishing with an unnatural burst of flame.

Link sheathed his sword as I descended the cliff, hurrying over to meet me. By then the rain had ceased, though we both still wore our hoods.

"I'm sorry I couldn't use more magic," I told him. "I've spent more energy than I thought."

He pulled back his hood and looked me over, his brow lined with worry. "Are you all right?"

I nodded, a little embarrassed. "You?"

"I'm fine. I just hope everyone's all right... We should see the Deku Tree first; I'm sure he can tell us more."

He took off in a run, and wordlessly I followed. We passed a pond with a small waterfall, then stopped before the passageway leading into the Deku Tree's private meadow. The entrance had been blocked by several thick and spike-ridden vines. Unfazed, Link simply touched the vines, and like snakes they slid aside to allow us entry.

We ran through the narrow passage, stopping only when we reached another clearing. There, standing tall and strong in the pale moonlight, rose the Great Deku Tree.

The current Deku Tree was not the original Link had known as a small child. That Tree had unfortunately died more than ten years ago, murdered by the curse Ganondorf had cast when he forced his way into the Kokiri Forest. Link had tried to save that Deku Tree, but sadly he had been too late.

I, too, had been unable to undo that tragic event. After Link defeated Ganondorf, I had taken the Ocarina of Time and reversed all the damage he'd done, wiping the Imprisoning War out of history entirely. But the gods had decided how much could be undone. The Ocarina's magic had returned time to the point when Link first drew the Master Sword, an event that occurred quite some time after the Deku Tree's death.

Link eventually returned home to find the Deku Tree had been reborn as a small but strong Deku Sprout. That sprout had already grown in to a young but impressively large tree.

"Link, Zelda, thank you for coming so quickly," he greeted us, relief filling his rumbling, melodic voice.

"Not soon enough to save the village, I'm afraid," Link replied. "Are the Kokiri safe?'

"Yes," the Tree assured him. "I sent them to the Forest Temple the moment I sensed danger. They are safe there."

"And the Resistance? Can you sense whether they've been attacked?" Anxiety colored Link's tone.

The Deku Tree paused, its full branches swaying in the breeze.

"...They are safe. The stalfos did not reach them."

Link sank to the ground with relief. "Thank the gods," he breathed.

"Where is the Resistance?" I asked him.

"At our base," he answered. "It's a large camp we've set up some distance west, at the edge of the Lost Woods. It's far enough away from the Kokiri but still within the Woods' protection. I've set up barriers and marked paths to protect the Resistance members from its enchantments. The Great Deku Tree also helps keep them safe. It's worked quite well so far."

"Sounds impressive," I murmured. "I'd like to see it."

"Well, there's no reason to go there just yet."

Link climbed to his feet and turned his attention to the Tree. "Great Deku Tree, was it Ashton who attacked the forest?"

The Tree gave a low murmur that resembled a string bass.

"No," he said. "I sensed a darker evil enter my Woods, someone who possessed a power too great for any Vandelian. I cast him out with my own magic, but I could not stop those monsters from attacking my children. So I sent Kaepora Gaebora to find you."

My eyes met Link's, and I knew he had reached the same conclusion.

"The necromancer," Link told the Deku Tree. "The man who captured me. This must be his doing."

"He must be after the Sacred Stone," I added. "That's the only reason he would come."

_Just as Ganondorf did. _The words hung in the air, unspoken but present.

"Hmm, this is troubling indeed," the Deku Tree rumbled. "If he seeks our Stone, then he seeks them all. Somehow he knows about the Sacred Realm."

"But there's nothing there," I said. "The Sacred Realm has been long corrupted. The Triforce no longer resides there."

"But Ganondorf does," Link murmured. "It doesn't matter what his intentions are. That door can never be opened."

"This man knows what he's doing," the Deku Tree spoke. "He knows Link holds the primary key to the Sacred Realm."

"He failed to acquire that, so now he's collecting the other keys," Link added.

"But why now?" I asked. "He's had plenty of time to steal the Stones."

"I don't know," Link murmured. "Maybe his timing is intentional, maybe it's not. Maybe there are holes in his plot. All we know is he's currently after the Stones, and we have to collect them before he does.

"Great Deku Tree," he then said. "Please lend me the Stone. I'll keep it safe elsewhere; that way he'll have no reason to harm the Kokiri."

"Of course," the Tree replied. "But I do not have the Stone. Saria took it when she and the others fled to the Temple."

Link nodded. "Zelda and I will go to them and bring them back to the village. Do you sense anymore danger?"

"Nothing that hasn't already dwelled in the Woods since my rebirth. The village is safe."

"All right," Link said. "We'll bring them back, and then I'll head for Zora's Domain. I have to warn Ruto."

"_We _have to warn Ruto," I corrected. "I'm coming with you."

He met my gaze, but I failed to read his guarded face.

"If you insist," he said simply.

"Then I bid you both a fond farewell," the Deku Tree spoke. "You have my utmost gratitude for coming to our aid."

"We live to serve, Great Deku Tree; you need only ask," Link said with a bow. I imitated the gesture.

The Deku gently shook its branches, causing his leaves to glimmer in the moonlight. "May the blessed Sisters spare you any harm or hindrance."

We thanked him, and I reached into my satchel for the Ocarina, offering it to Link. He took it, and once again I embraced him tightly. The Minuet of the Forest filled my ears, and I closed my eyes before the magic swept us back to the Sacred Forest Meadow.

Link and I had barely released each other before we heard young voices calling his name. I turned to find several Kokiri running toward us, their companion fairies trailing close behind.

"Link!"

He knelt down in time for a red-haired girl to throw her arms around his neck.

"The Deku Tree sent us away," she said in a trembling voice. "Saria said we had to flee…"

"It's all right," Link soothed. "The village is safe now."

The other Kokiri gathered around us, all of them talking at once.

"What took you so long, Link?"

"What's happened to the village?"

"Link, we were so scared…"

"Oh, stop it, all of you; is that any way to thank our rescuers?"

We looked up at the sound of Saria's voice, and I was alarmed to see two other Kokiri helping her down the ruined entrance of the Forest Temple. She used only one leg, keeping the other bent up away from the ground.

Despite having the body of a skinny twelve-year-old, Saria was far older and wiser than she appeared. Kokiri lived much longer than Hylians, but physically they never aged a day past twelve. Yet while some Kokiri gained more maturity than others, they all retained a childlike innocence.

Saria had been the one who took Link from his mother's arms the day she died in the Deku Tree's meadow, and she had remained his primary guardian ever since. She was the closest Link ever had to a mother, and she loved him dearly—as he did her.

Saria's fairy hovered close to her, illuminating her pretty face and her brilliant green hair. No other Kokiri shared such a unique hair color, but somehow it suited Saria perfectly.

Link rushed to her side and dropped to his knees, examining her bootless left foot. "Saria, what happened?"

She gave a pleasant though embarrassed laugh.

"Oh, I fell and hurt my ankle while we were running to the Temple. Clumsy of me, huh?"

Link breathed a light sigh, then pulled her into a hug.

"I'm glad you're okay," he told her.

She hugged him back tightly, burying her face against his shoulder. I smiled sadly, knowing how much Saria worried about him.

"Hey, what about our village?" a red-haired, freckled boy demanded, rudely interrupting their reunion. I recognized him immediately.

Mido, a gangly boy with a seemingly permanent scowl, had always been the self-proclaimed "Boss" of the Kokiri. As long as Link could remember, Mido had constantly bullied him for lacking a guardian fairy like the other Kokiri. But the real reason for Mido's hostility lay in his deep envy of Link's relationship with Saria. That hostility had lessened once Link grew up and left the forest, but somehow he couldn't will himself to become friends.

"Yeah, can we go back now?" another asked, tugging at my tunic. "I'm sleepy..."

My heart sank as my eyes met Link's. How could we tell them they had no beds to return to?

Saria noticed our exchange and looked up at Link, who breathed a heavy sigh.

"The village was attacked," he confirmed. "We cleared the enemies out, but they had already set fires before we arrived. I'm sorry."

Their stunned faces wrenched at my heart.

"Our homes are gone?" one boy asked, his voice trembling.

"No, we put the fires out," I assured him. "Your homes are still standing, but they are badly burned."

One of the Kokiri began to weep softly, and the twins moved to comfort her.

"Homes can be rebuilt, everyone," Saria reminded them. "Especially ones as simple as ours. Be grateful we weren't burned with them."

This offered them little comfort, but they fell silent. Saria sighed and reached into a satchel slung over her shoulder, pulling out a glittering emerald encased in a spiral of gold. The jewel shone with a magical glow, though I wondered if Saria, as the Sage of the Forest, gave it that effect.

"They came for this," she said softly, "didn't they?"

"Most likely," Link murmured. "I have to take it to protect you and the others."

She nodded, though her face looked sad. "I understand."

"But first," Link said, "let's get you all back to the village." He placed one arm around Saria's shoulders and the other under her knees, gently lifting her off the ground. She turned to me, a smile lighting her face.

"Zelda, it's so good to see you," she said, stretching a hand toward me. "It feels like forever since we last met…"

I took her smaller hand and gently returned her smile. "I know; I'm so sorry I've been unable to visit sooner..."

"I've been so worried about you; Link won't tell me anything..."

She gave him a disapproving look, causing him to sigh.

"I tell you all you need to know," he muttered.

"I know I could trust you to tell me everything, Zelda," Saria said, turning back to me, "but I'm guessing you have other places to be."

"That's true, I'm afraid," I replied, glancing at Link. "We have to visit Ruto too."

"Catch me up on what you can, then," she urged. "We have a walk ahead of us—well, you do, at least," she added with a grin, winding her arms back around Link's neck.

He sighed. "Only because you're clumsy."

"I'm not clumsy," she objected as he carried her on ahead of everyone. "I had a clumsy _moment_. You had plenty of those growing up, mister."

I smiled, amazed by how easily she could slip into playful chatter, even after her village had been attacked. The others could not recover as well as their Sage. As caretakers of the forest, the Kokiri kept very few material attachments, but they took pride and comfort in their humble abodes. Losing them would certainly bring some sorrow.

Saria glanced at me over Link's shoulder, and I watched her eyes flick to my left hand before returning to my face. She raised her brow and then began whispering in Link's ear. I sighed quietly. I could guess what she wanted to know.

The rest of us followed in silence—for a while, that was. Eventually the Kokiri began quietly talking amongst themselves, their anxious faces illuminated in the glows of their guardian fairies. I remained silent, watching Link's cloaked back until the twins each grasped one of my hands. They managed small smiles for me, which I warmly returned.

Gradually we neared their village, navigating the twists and turns under Link's guidance. I recognized none of it, not until we passed the portals leading to Zora's River and Goron City.

Every now and then Saria asked questions about my life at the castle, and I did my best to answer. Discussing a world so drastically different from hers felt awkward; I could see why Link omitted some information in their conversations.

Finally we reached the village, and the twins released my hands as everyone rushed on ahead. Sadly I watched them scurry down the cliffs to investigate the charred remains of their homes.

Link sat Saria down on the grass so he could quick climb down the ledge. Then he reached for her, and she slid back into his arms. I, too, descended the ledge and followed them down to the village. Mido stood waiting nearby, his arms crossed as he impatiently tapped his foot against the ground.

"Just set me on that stump there," Saria quietly instructed Link. "You don't have to stay. You've done more than enough for us, and Ruto has to be warned."

Her tone held a mechanical sound; naturally she hated to say goodbye.

Link did as she suggested, and I knelt down to inspect her foot. Saria's fairy hovered closer, giving me some light.

"It looks like you've sprained it," I told her, trailing my finger along the swollen area. "Try to stay off it a few weeks so it can heal properly, all right? Use ice to ease the swelling, and keep this foot elevated as often as you can."

Saria nodded. "Thank you, Zelda."

Then she reached into her satchel, pulling out the Kokiri Emerald.

"Here," she said as she placed it in my hand. "I'm sure the Great Deku Tree has allowed you to take it."

I nodded and closed my fingers around the jewel. "We'll keep it safe."

She smiled weakly. "I know you will. Plus it gives you a reason to come back and see me."

"We don't need a reason," Link said gently, kneeling down beside me. "We're always happy to see you."

She sighed. "I hate saying goodbye so soon... but I know this Ashton is stirring up something terrible."

"I'll come see you again soon," Link soothed. "I'd like to see how everyone's doing. I'll help rebuild if need be."

Saria brightened. "That would be lovely. Will you come too, Zelda?"

"I wish I could," I said sadly. "But it may be a while before we see each other again."

She looked worried, and I gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I'll be all right."

"That's what Link always says."

"That's because it's true," he replied. "We can take care of ourselves, Saria."

She hesitated, then sighed. "I know," she said quietly.

I moved to give her a tight hug, which she returned.

"I'll miss you," I told her.

"I'll miss you too," she murmured. "And don't worry about your marriage business. You still have each other, and that's what matters."

I blushed, not daring to look at Link. He chose to ignore her comment and moved to embrace her. She clung to him, reluctant to let go.

"I'll see you soon then?" she murmured against his shoulder.

He stroked her cheek, offering her a partly forced smile. "Absolutely."

Then finally we left her to the care of her fellow Kokiri—to Mido in particular. With the Spiritual Stone safely tucked away in my satchel, Link and I headed back into the dark recesses of the Lost Woods.


	25. Chapter XXV

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**Fortitude**

Chapter XXV

Silently we ran through the dense woods, pushing shrubs aside as we plunged into deepening darkness. The nighttime buzz of insects filled my ears, broken only by the occasional snap of a dry twig or the hoot of an owl—

The hooting grew suddenly louder, and Link slowed to a stop, looking up toward the sky. There an unusually large and majestic owl swooped down, settling fluidly onto a branch.

"Kaepora," Link said, a hint of relief in his tone. "I hoped you would show up. I want to thank you for your help."

"'Twas the least I could do," Kaepora replied, ruffling his thick feathers. "I am sorry the village burned."

"The Kokiri are safe," Link said. "But I'm concerned for the Zoras."

"You believe they, too, are in danger?"

"Yes. We believe the necromancer is after the Spiritual Stones. I could use your sharp eyes, Kaepora, not to mention your speed. Will you help us?"

"Anything for you two," he hooted with pride.

"I need you to sweep over the River. Look for anything out of the ordinary and report back to me. We'll be taking the portal here in the Woods, and I'd hate to warp there blindly."

The owl nodded and stretched his great wings. "Understood, Master Link."

He leapt from the branch and took off, vanishing beyond the treetops.

Link sighed and continued his steady walk. Solemnly I followed, finding myself at a loss for words. An uncomfortable silence settled between us, heavy with things unsaid.

"Can we not enter Zora's Domain through the portal at Lake Hylia?" I finally asked, more for the sake of conversation than anything.

He shook his head. "Hylia is occupied by Vandelians."

My face burned as I realized how obvious that question had been. Of course the Lake was occupied. It was one of the most beautiful areas of Hyrule, and Ashton knew the Zora often came there.

Glumly I stared at Link's back, hating how distant he felt. It wasn't simply the loss of our bond that plagued me. I felt shut out, cut off from him in every possible way. Just how much did he keep locked up inside? Surely he kept his scar a secret from the Resistance...

"Link," I said quietly, "have you told Saria about—"

"No," he cut me off. "She doesn't need to know."

I sighed softly. I had expected such an answer.

"The others know," I reminded him, referring to the other sages.

"She isn't like the others," he argued. "It would only frighten her. Ruto doesn't know either—please don't tell her." He turned to give me a stern look.

"I wasn't going to."

More silence. I kept a slight distance behind him, since I relied on his guidance through the Woods. The tension grew with every step, and I struggled to find words to break it. Whether he shared that tension, I could not tell.

"Link, you don't have to bear this alone."

"Yes, I do," he said firmly, avoiding my gaze. "I did this to myself, and so I will endure it."

"You have people who love you, who want to help you…"

He just shook his head. "No one can help me."

A painful lump rose in my throat, but I forced it back down.

"How can we if you push us away?"

"I'm not pushing anyone away," he said quietly. "That's happening all on its own. It was bound to happen anyway."

The implication behind his bitter words grieved me, and again I fell silent. I could understand why he felt that way; it seemed fate had always struggled to keep us apart.

But Link had always resisted that notion. He had always fought to be at my side, retreating only when I had ended our courtship. His current aloofness unnerved me—never had he accepted our separation with such defeat. Had he finally grown tired of it all?

_Stop it; this isn't all about you. He has so much on his shoulders…_

We reached a small clearing, and a short distance away I could see the pool which hid the secret portal to Zora's River. Link quickened his pace toward it, only to stop when I caught his wrist. He paused but did not meet my gaze.

"I never meant to hurt you, Link," I whispered. "You know that. Please don't shut me out."

He hesitated, then slowly turned to face me. Behind him the moonlight shone against the pool's mirror-like surface, casting a near ethereal glow about him. For a moment I simply gazed at him, mesmerized by how beautifully sad he appeared. He parted his lips to speak—only to look up as Kaepora announced his return with a loud hoot.

"There are soldiers stationed where the River flows into Hyrule Field," he informed us, clamping onto a nearby branch. "But the area near the waterfall is clear. You should be able to enter unseen."

"Thank you, Kaepora," Link replied. "You've made this much simpler for us."

"I am honored to assist you," the owl replied, bowing his feathered head. "And you too, Queen Zelda."

I smiled gently. "Thank you."

"We should be going, then," Link said. "I'd like to gather the other two Stones before dawn."

Kaepora nodded. "I will return to the River and watch for potential danger."

With a powerful flap of his broad wings, he lifted off his branch and soared off into the night.

Link sighed and pulled off his cloak, casting it aside. Underneath he wore a loose black shirt, tucked into black trousers and tall black boots—his "Shade" attire. Despite the summer heat, he had laced his shirt all the way up over his throat, most likely to hide his scar.

"Leave your cloak," he instructed. "And your bow. Neither will do you much good once we reach the Domain."

I nodded and tossed the items onto the grass—though with some reluctance. Slinging the satchel back over my shoulder, I then moved to join Link before the pool. He stood there a moment, gazing at our reflections in the still water.

"What is it?" I asked him softly, hoping he would say what he had started to moments ago.

"It's all so strange," he murmured. "Why did the necromancer attack tonight, after all this time? And why would he keep his distance?"

"I don't know," I sighed. "But what choice do we have? Ruto and Darunia have to be warned."

He looked at me then, and instantly I read his thoughts, even without the bond.

"Don't you dare tell me to go back," I said firmly.

"Zelda, we could be walking into a trap—"

"I'm not leaving you," I insisted, grabbing his hand. "I won't let you face him alone."

Again he hesitated, searching my face. I saw fear in his eyes, but something else softened his gaze… Sorrow? Relief?

"Fine," he said. "But if I tell you to teleport away, I need you to listen. You're no longer armed, Zelda, and I don't want you using any more magic tonight."

I nodded but inwardly made no promises. I would not abandon him to danger. "All right."

Satisfied, he pulled his hand from mine and lowered himself into the pool. Taking a deep breath, he then dove under the surface and swam down toward the portal. I tightened the cords that held my satchel shut and plunged in after him, forcing myself down toward the bottom.

The portal itself provided just enough room to swim through head-first. Once I'd entered it, however, I felt the strong tug of magic thrust me forward at an incredible speed. Faster and faster I moved, until a great white light engulfed me…

Then it all stopped, and I found myself floating once again in a pool of calm water. I kicked my feet, swimming upward until I broke the surface. I gasped for air as quietly as possible, though the thunderous roar of the waterfall drowned out any sound I made.

I slicked back my loose strands of hair and looked up to find Link standing on the bank, dripping wet. He bent down and offered his hand, helping me climb out of the pool. Then cautiously we hurried up the narrow, uneven cliffs which rose before the waterfall. We stopped at the highest point, where an old metal plaque lay embedded in the ground. It bore a musical staff and the crest of the royal family but no words to identify its purpose. I retrieved the Ocarina from my satchel, knowing precisely what to do.

Link scanned our surroundings with wary eyes, even despite Kaepora's reassurances, then placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Play the song as quietly as you can," he spoke in my ear. "The notes shouldn't carry over this noise, but there's no harm in caution."

He meant the Song of the Royal Family, a melody I knew all too well. It had been my lullaby as a child. The song held magical properties, some triggered only in particular locations. If played before the small plaque there in the ground, its notes opened a secret entrance into Zora's Domain.

I knelt at Link's feet and positioned myself before the plaque. Then I brought the Ocarina to my lips and played the slow, soothing notes of my lullaby.

At first nothing happened. The waterfall roared as loudly as ever. Paranoia crept up my spine, and anxiously I fingered the Ocarina, wondering if I should play the song a bit louder.

"Wait," Link said. "It's opening."

Sure enough, the waterfall steadily grew thinner and quieter until a large gap had divided its flow, revealing an open doorway.

Quickly Link leapt into the opening, turning to make sure I followed. I also jumped across without trouble, though Link caught my arm just in case. Together we hurried on into the Domain, guided through the darkness by a line of torches. Behind us the waterfall regained its full power, concealing the secret entrance once more.

"Queen Zelda, Master Link," a kind though unusual voice spoke up behind us, "this is certainly unexpected..."

We turned to face the speaker—a tall, lean male Zora. His pale skin gleamed in the dim torchlight, as did the translucent fins extending from his arms and hips. He studied us through large, dark eyes, idly fingering his spear with webbed fingers. Save for a royal blue cloth tied around his slender waist, he wore no clothing. The Zoras spent most of their time underwater; naturally they found clothes cumbersome.

"Kaju," Link greeted him, not bothering with the usual formalities. "Please forgive our intrusion at such a late hour, but we must speak with Queen Ruto immediately. Something urgent has come to our attention."

The Zora hesitated, clearly troubled.

"Very well," he said. "This way, please."

Silently we followed. I studied Kaju's back, noting the way his skull narrowed into a long tail-like appendage down his back—a feature all male Zoras shared. Then my eyes wandered over the Domain, soaking in the strange but beautiful setting.

In the simplest of terms, Zora's Domain was a gigantic cave. Hollowed out of a mountainside, the Domain consisted of winding stairways and tunnels leading up to the royal chambers. Many torches lined the walls, yet a natural glow emanated from the walls themselves—the effects of an enchantment cast long ago. Another smaller but very tall waterfall poured into an enormous pool below, creating a lively yet relaxing atmosphere. Beyond the stairways lay the Throne Chamber, which blocked a tunnel leading out of the Domain into a small lake called Zora's Fountain. There dwelled the great Jabu-Jabu, divine guardian of the Zoras. Only a select few held permission to enter the sacred Fountain.

Kaju led us up the main stairway and paused before a door, opening it to allow us entry.

"Wait here," he instructed.

Inside was a small conference room, furnished only by a long white table and eight matching chairs. Each piece had been artistically shaped and painted to imitate the ripples and flow of water. Shells and coral decor accented the curved walls, giving the room an extravagant, almost gaudy look.

The door closed behind Kaju, and silently Link and I took our seats at the table. There the awkward silence returned, broken only by the occasional _drip drop_ of countless unseen water droplets. Anxiously I searched for something to say, but again the words would not come.

Link, however, leaned forward to rest his head in his arms, breathing a tired sigh. His open display of exhaustion surprised me, and tentatively I raised my hand, touching his back. At first he tensed but then relaxed, letting me caress him. I rubbed slow, soothing circles against his shoulder blades, then tenderly combed my fingers through his damp, unruly hair. He did not pull away, and his lack of resistance brought me a quiet wave of happiness.

Our moment was short-lived, however, as the door burst open not a minute later, revealing the Zora Queen herself.

Despite our anatomical differences, I could not deny Ruto was beautiful. Her pale, gleaming skin resembled the surface of a pearl, and her bright eyes carried such intensity within a single glance. Delicate fins adorned her arms and hips, tinted a deeper shade of blue. Her most striking feature, however, was the oblong, almost triangular shape of her head—a look common to all female Zoras. A haughty expression forever occupied her lovely face, softened only by her warm smile and her graceful stride.

She wore only a thin robe, colored the same deep violet as her eyes. Around her neck hung a large jewel containing three glittering sapphires—the Spiritual Stone of Water. The jewel had been passed down by her family for generations as a royal engagement stone, and it never left her sight.

"Zelda!" she cried, coming to throw her arms around me. "Gods, I can't believe you're here! I've heard such awful things about you and Ashton—and now he's broken your marriage?"

I opened my mouth to explain, but all I could manage was, "It's good to see you, Ruto..." So much had happened since our last meeting; I didn't know where to begin.

To my relief, Link cleared his throat and gently interrupted.

"I'm afraid there isn't time to catch up, Ruto."

She pulled away to give him a frown. "Not even a hello for me, Link?"

Such was the usual manner in which Ruto greeted Link. The two had known each other since childhood. During his first quest to gather the Spiritual Stones and stop Ganondorf from entering the Sacred Realm—the quest I had appointed to him—Link had rescued Ruto from the very bowels of Jabu-Jabu after he accidentally swallowed her. For a long time Ruto had harbored a childish infatuation for Link, but those feelings had faded in her adolescent years. The two still maintained a friendship of sorts, though she enjoyed teasing him perhaps a little too much.

Link pressed his lips together, forming a straight line. "Hello."

"Hmph." Ruto slid into a chair across from us. "I suppose that's the best you can do, considering the recent events..."

Nervously I shifted under her sympathetic gaze, wishing to abandon the subject.

"So why have you come at this highly improper hour?" she then asked, her tone regaining its usual haughtiness. "Has something happened?"

Link felt no need to mince words. "The Kokiri have been attacked."

Ruto's jaw dropped, her eyes wide with horror. "The Kokiri? My gods, are they all right?"

"Yes, they're safe now. But we have reason to believe you and the Zora are in danger."

"Of Ashton, you mean?" she scowled. "So what else is new?"

"No. Of the man who captured me. The necromancer."

She furrowed her pearly, hairless brow. "The necromancer? But why?"

"We suspect he wants the Spiritual Stones," I answered. "We've come to collect the Sapphire, to take it out of his reach."

Her gaze fell to the jewel hanging from her slender neck.

"My Stone?" she murmured, touching it lightly.

"Yes," Link said. "It cannot stay here. It's too risky."

She frowned at him and proudly drew herself up. "You think we cannot protect our own Spiritual Stone?" she demanded.

Link sighed, and gently I reached across the table, covering her pale hand with mine.

"Ruto, this man is capable of terrible things," I told her. "Please, it's our duty to protect you. Let us take the Stone, just until we resolve this mess."

She studied me a moment, then glanced at Link.

"I don't give up my engagement stone so easily," she murmured, stroking the gems with her long, webbed fingers. "You should know that better than anyone, Link."

She cast him a sly grin, one he did not return.

"We don't have time for games, Ruto," he said.

"I merely want more information," she replied, her smile fading as her gaze shifted to me. "From both of you. You think I don't see the cloudy skies every day? You think I don't feel the chill in my waters? I worry just as much as you do, and yet you refuse to even—"

She broke off as muffled shouting suddenly filled the halls outside our room.

"What is that?" she asked, alarm filling her delicate features.

My heart lurched as I recognized the harsh, foreign voices drowning out the Zoras.

_Vandelians._

Link shot to his feet and drew his sword—just as the door swung open.

"We're under attack!" a Zoran guard cried. "Come, your Majesty, we must leave immediately!"

Several more Zora appeared, grabbing her arms and dragging her toward the door.

"Wait!" she ordered, shoving them away. Quickly she removed the Stone from her neck and thrust it into my hand.

"Ruto," I stammered, "I'm so sorry—"

"Just keep my Stone safe—and don't do anything stupid!" she shouted as her guards forced her out of the room.

Link grabbed my wrist and hurried after them, pulling me down the stairs and back toward the secret entrance behind the waterfall. The Vandelians had not yet filled the Domain, but I could hear them fighting Zoran guards on the upper levels near the Fountain. How they had managed to enter that sacred, closed-in territory, I did not know.

"Put the Stone away," Link said in a remarkably calm voice.

Quickly I untied the satchel and placed the Sapphire inside. Then I moved to retie the cords, but Link stopped me with his free hand. My eyes met his, and I could see he was frightened. But he had long mastered his fear; it did not control him.

"Take the Ocarina and teleport away from here," he said. "Leave the satchel with me—"

"No," I cut him off, "the Ocarina is your only way out."

"I can take the portal to Hylia with the others."

"And then what? You said yourself it's occupied by Vandelians. You can't swim like them; you'd only trap yourself—"

"I have to help them evacuate," he insisted. "For all we know I led the Vandelians here."

"Then I'll wait for you."

"Zelda—"

"Link, do not ask me to leave you; I won't do it."

He hesitated, knowing I would not be swayed. Behind him the Vandelians continued to flood the Domain, rounding up helpless, panicked civilians. Link glanced up at them, then thrust me back against the wall, deeper into the shadows. His hand cupped my cheek, communicating more seriousness than affection.

"You stay out of sight," he said, his stern gaze holding mine. "You're not armed, Zelda, please."

I nodded. "I will. Please be careful."

"I know." He pulled away and turned, breaking into a run up toward the Vandelians. His sword gleamed in the dim lighting, flashing dangerously with each swing. He knocked soldier after soldier out of his path, shoving them off the narrow stairway into the water below.

Screams filled the air as the remaining civilians dove into the large pool, swimming down toward the portal to Lake Hylia. There they would seek sanctuary within the Water Temple, an enormous structure which stood at the bottom of the lake, far under its clear waters. The Vandelians would not reach them there, much less find them. I prayed they would all make it out safely.

But the Zoras were no match for the Vandelians. Their fragile bodies left them vulnerable to attack, and their armor provided little defense against torches and swords. Their aquatic race specialized in healing, not fighting. Their offensive training paled in comparison to that of any soldier, especially Vandelians. Thus they wisely stayed on the defensive, struggling to distract the Vandelians while the civilians fled.

Countless pale bodies fell from above, splashing into the now murky pool. I fought the need to observe them more closely, clinging to a fool's hope for their survival. My eyes constantly gravitated back toward Link, checking him for injury before scanning the Domain for any unseen danger...

And then I saw it.

There, at the highest point of the Domain, just above the waterfall, stood a Vandelian archer. He held a nocked crossbow, aimed directly toward Link.

I wanted to cry out, but I knew it would only distract him. I thought of the hookshot in my satchel—_no, there isn't time!_

Two heartbeats later, I knew what I had to do.

Pushing all second thoughts aside, barely daring to breathe, I lunged from my hiding place, right arm outstretched. At the same time, the archer tightened his aim...

"NOOO!"

A burst of energy erupted from my hand, soaring up toward the archer. It was a weaker shot than I had intended but still enough to send the archer tumbling off the ledge.

I swayed where I stood, weakened by the effort and dizzy with relief. Already I saw darkness spotting my vision. My eyes closed as I felt myself go weightless...

Vaguely I heard Link scream my name before I hit the water.

**xxxxxxx**

"_Zelda... Zelda, please wake up..."_

"_Please, Zelda, don't do this..."_

Link's faint, panicked voice echoed through my mind, tearing into my deep slumber. But he did not call me through telepathic means. Rather, I heard him as though from the opposite side of a long, dark tunnel. I tried to respond but my jaw felt too heavy... Everything felt so heavy...

Then a rush of air filled my lungs and I woke with a gasp, coughing and sputtering while someone held my head up. My eyes blinked open and I found myself stretched out on a hard surface, staring up at three pale, unfamiliar Zoran faces.

"Zelda, thank the gods," Link's anxious face appeared as he lifted me off the hard surface, clutching me close as he knelt on the floor. "You scared me to death..."

Weakly I rested against him, taking a moment to catch my breath. His clothes were soaked, as were mine. I furrowed my brow, probing my sluggish memory for answers.

"The soldier," I croaked. "He had a bow… but you're okay?"

"Yes, darling, I'm okay." Link stroked my wet hair back from my face, giving me a small, relieved smile. "Do you feel any pain?"

I shook my head slowly, struggling to recall what had happened.

"I used magic… I'm sorry—"

"Shh, I know," Link soothed. "I'm the one who's sorry. You took a risk for me; I should have been more alert."

He embraced me with a sigh, gently stroking the back of my head. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, choking back tears of relief. Our previous emotional rift had vanished, forgotten in his terror of losing me.

"Master Link, we shouldn't linger too long…"

"I know, don't worry."

Reluctantly I pulled away, realizing then that we had taken refuge inside the Domain shop. Broad shelves lined the walls in neat rows, stocked with miscellaneous products ranging from clothing to live fish. Water droplets streaked the smooth white countertop, the only evidence that I had lain there.

"What happened?" I asked, meeting Link's gaze. "The Vandelians, how are we...?"

"We've sealed off the tunnel leading to the Fountain with red ice," one of the Zoran guards replied. "The civilians have fled to the Water Temple through the portal."

"All of them?" I asked him, hope fluttering in my chest.

He hesitated. "I'm not sure."

"But the red ice won't hold them for long," another said. "Master Link tells us they have gone for explosives."

"These Zoras stayed to make sure you're all right," Link murmured. "But now we have to leave before the Vandelians break through."

"We're just going to flee?" I stammered. "Let them have the run of this place?" The thought of Ashton adding Zora's Domain to his list of victories made my blood boil.

"We have no choice, Zelda," Link said. "The ice won't keep them out..."

"But a barrier would," I insisted.

Link furrowed his brow. "Darling, you don't have the strength for such a barrier."

"No. But you do."

He blinked. "Me? But I—I couldn't..." He trailed off, seeing the hopeful faces of the Zoras.

"Yes, you can," I whispered, bringing his face back to mine. "You've improved so much, and I can help you."

He hesitated. "I...suppose I could try... But we'd have to hurry," he added quickly. "Can you walk?"

Carefully I climbed to my feet, letting him support me. "I'm fine," I assured him. "Let's go."

We rushed out of the shop and headed back up the stairs, the Zoras on our heels. Link turned a sharp corner and darted through the Throne Chamber, entering the tunnel which led toward the Fountain. A shadowy glint of crimson in the distance caught my eye—the red ice. It was an enchanted material, mined by the Zoras and sold throughout the land. Red ice remained just as cold as regular ice, but only blue fire—another enchanted material—could melt it. The ice's invulnerability to heat, not to mention its unique appearance, gave it value in a variety of markets. Whether explosives would work against it, I wasn't sure. Not that it mattered—the Vandelians could always blast through the tunnel itself.

We had barely begun to approach the ice when a loud hissing sound filled my ears.

"Get down!" Link shouted, pulling me to him. "We're too late!"

He threw us both to the ground, shielding me with his body just seconds before a section of the wall exploded. Rock particles showered down upon us, splashing the shallow water which flowed through the tunnel. Link and I scrambled to our feet, coughing as dust clouds hovered about the rubble. The red ice remained standing, undamaged.

Hurriedly we sloshed through the water, hands tightly clasped as we followed the Zora's ghostly figures back the way we had come. They led us through Throne Chamber and down another long, dark tunnel. Ahead the roar of the indoor waterfall grew louder.

"To the Lake—quick!" one of the Zoras shouted over his shoulder. "Can you seal the portal?"

"Yes, go!" Link shouted back.

My heart sank. Sealing a portal was no simple task, especially underwater. Casting the spell would take a minute or two—time Link didn't have.

My stomach turned as my free hand squeezed the strap of my satchel. I knew what I had to do.

We reached the end of the tunnel and skidded to a halt. Below us the waterfall roared, drowning out the Vandelian's shouts echoing down from the opposite end. The Zoras were nowhere in sight; I assumed they had already escaped through the portal.

"You go first; I'll follow!" Link shouted.

I shook my head. "We'll never make it!"

"We have to try—hurry!"

In a flash I yanked off my satchel and slung it around his neck, pulling his startled face down to mine.

"Get out of here and seal the portal," I ordered, willing him to see my desperation. "I won't let them capture you."

"No, Zelda—!"

"Go!" In rush of panic I shoved him hard—right off the cliff.

For a second he just fell, too shocked to react, but then straightened into a dive just before he plunged into the murky waters below.

"Halt!" A harsh voice rang through the tunnel as the Vandelians drew nearer. I turned and ran toward them, stretching my arms to block their path. The soldiers slowed to a stop, their swords held ready. None of them knew I lacked my usual magical power, and cautiously they kept their distance.

"The rogue jumped—find him!" a familiar voice commanded behind them.

The soldiers parted, making a path for one individual. He stepped into the torchlight, and instantly I recognized the sneering face of Captain Felix. I met his green-eyed gaze, fighting the scowl which tugged at my lips.

"Stop this!" I shouted, my voice sharp with rage. "How dare you trespass here and attack these innocent civilians? They have done nothing to warrant such violence!"

"You are in no position to be asking questions, your _Majesty_," Felix growled. "Cooperate with me, and Lord Ashton just might lighten the consequences that await you. You can start by telling me where that knave has run off to."

"As if I would help you," I snapped. "Link is already long gone, far out of your reach, as is Queen Ruto. There is nothing for you here."

The captain eyed me a moment, his face darkening with contempt.

"We'll see about that," he said. "Bind her hands."

Slowly the soldiers approached me, gaining confidence when I did not resist them. One slipped behind me with a pair of shackles in hand, but I let him roughly chain my wrists. I had no reason to fight them, and I lacked the strength to try.

"Conduct a thorough search of the area—especially outside along the river," Felix ordered his men. "I want every slimy crevice checked. The scum can't have gotten far."

Half the soldiers ran back toward the Fountain while the rest scattered about the Domain. Solemnly I followed them through the tunnels, praying Link had already sealed the portal and teleported somewhere safe. I knew some form of punishment awaited me, but I would endure it for him. Nothing Ashton did to me could be worse than the fate Link had narrowly escaped.


	26. Chapter XXVI

AN: Thanks for reading! **Please review!**

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXVI

I woke with a start, jerking against my chains. They rattled in the silence, then quieted as I calmed myself. I sat there a moment, increasingly aware of my discomfort. My head throbbed, my body ached. I felt so tired I would have lay sprawled on the floor if not for my chains.

Gingerly I adjusted my arms, trying to aid my blood flow, but this seemed impossible in my current position. The guards had chained my still shackled hands to the wall above my head, leaving my arms to dangle by my wrists. Cuts had already begun to form below my palms, and I could barely feel my fingers. How long I had sat like that in the darkness, I no longer knew.

The return journey from Zora's Domain had taken an entire day—night had fallen by the time we reached the castle. I had slept through most of the way, lying limp against my horse's mane, hands still bound behind my back. It was a wonder I hadn't fallen off.

Upon our arrival, the guards had pulled me off the horse and dragged me down to the dungeons. I remembered very little of it.

Of all the worries rolling around my head, my hunger and thirst concerned me the most. I hadn't eaten since before I'd teleported to Kakariko, and I feared how much time would pass before I received some kind of nourishment. A guard had come to give me water, but my hunger went unsatisfied. I had told myself they would not keep me imprisoned long, but with each passing hour that certainty had begun to trickle away…

I leaned my head against the cold stone wall, breathing a heavy sigh. _Does Ashton really mean to starve me this time?_

If so I would bear it as long as I could. I wanted Ashton to cave first.

_Then again…_ I couldn't help but wonder if my determination was nothing more than foolhardiness. What good did my resistance do? One way or another I'd end up back on Ashton's leash. Why starve myself in the process?

The sound of approaching footsteps silenced my thoughts. Slowly I lifted my head, bracing myself at the jingling of keys. The door opened and a guard stepped into my cell. Wordlessly he moved to unlock my chains. I lowered my freed hands, suppressing a sigh of relief as I stretched them out.

"Get up," the guard commanded.

I did so, slowly, and he grabbed my elbow to force me out of the cell. I stumbled but managed to stay on my feet, aided of course by his tight grip.

"Where are you taking me—"

"Silence."

I found out soon enough. The guard dragged me as far as the supplies room, which connected the dungeons to the castle, and threw me to the ground. I landed on my knees, my palms smacking the floor right before someone's polished black boots. Quickly I looked up and stared into the eyes of Ashton himself.

"Good evening, Zelda." His low tone suggested mockery, but his face lacked any trace of humor.

Hurriedly I climbed to my feet, stepping back to meet his cold gaze.

"Evening," I echoed, not in greeting but acknowledgment. "So you've kept me locked up for a day? I assume that's not the extent of my punishment."

I expected him to laugh or scoff, but he merely stared at me, the hint of a smirk touching his lips.

"Certainly not," he replied.

"So what have you come to do, then? Scold me? Beat me?"

Ashton gave a condescending click of his tongue.

"Zelda," he purred, "you know I could never lay a hand on you…"

"Then why have you come?"

"You are correct to assume some sort of violence awaits you," he told me, "but it will not be inflicted against you."

I stared at him, keeping a neutral expression despite my sinking heart.

"What do you mean?"

"The first time you fled the castle, I told you that kind of rebelliousness would result in the suffering of others. Don't you remember?"

I furrowed my brow, struggling to remember those particular words.

"You've either forgotten, or you simply yielded to your own desires. Your reason is irrelevant. This is the third time you have blatantly disobeyed me. I see now that it will take more than words for you to grasp the seriousness of my orders."

He turned his head to address the guard standing near the door. "Bring her in."

The guard nodded and pounded his fist against the door, which swung open at his command. My growing sense of alarm shot to horror as a second prisoner stumbled inside.

"Heather!"

I started toward her, but a guard snatched my elbow, halting me mid-step.

"My Lady," she pleaded, "they brought me back here; I didn't—"

"Silence," Ashton snapped.

"Let her go!" I cried. "Leave her out of this; she had nothing to—"

"Enough!" Ashton cut me off. "You meant to protect this girl when you sent her away, didn't you? Thought I might forget what a _comfort_ she's been to you these past months?"

He gave a humorless laugh, and my pounding heart sank all the more.

"Fool," he spat. "The only way you can protect her—or anyone, for that matter—is through obedience to me. Tonight she will suffer the punishment you have earned."

He nodded to the nearest guard, who, to my horror, removed a whip from its hook on the wall. How it had gotten there in the first place, I could not fathom.

"No! No, please!" I begged, struggling against the guard's iron grip. "Heather is innocent—strike me instead!"

Ashton shook his head. "This is the only way you'll learn."

"What are you saying? This is inhumane!"

He barely heard me.

"Six lashes," he told the guard. "Two for each day her Majesty disobeyed me."

The Vandelian advanced toward a now thoroughly terrified Heather.

"Turn around," he commanded her.

Wordlessly she obeyed, daring to cast me a glance, and the fear in her eyes brought tears to mine.

"On your knees."

Slowly she sank toward the floor, pressing her trembling hands against the stone. She seemed dazed, lost in the nightmare.

"No, I won't allow this!" I cried. Instinctively I summoned my magic, gathering whatever strength I had left…

Ashton pointed a finger at me, his eyes narrowed to emerald slits.

"Make one move," he warned, "summon one little spark, and I will double her sentence."

I hesitated a second longer, but then slowly, painfully, relinquished my magic. My powerlessness overwhelmed me; there was nothing I could do.

"Heather," I choked. "I'm so sorry… I never meant for this to happen—"

"Enough, Zelda," Ashton cut me off. "Not another sound."

I forced myself into silence, regarding him with hateful eyes. He, of course, remained unfazed.

"Begin."

The guard raised the whip high above his head. Everything moved too slowly, then sped up as his arm snapped forward. My eyes slammed shut—just as the whip struck Heather's back. She cried out but then clenched her teeth, muffling the anguished sound.

_One._

Again the whip cracked, and again she cried out, her voice shaking with tears. Blood stained the torn material of her dress, spreading beneath her long, wavy hair.

_Two. _

Hot, angry tears blurred my vision, streaming down my rigid face. I yearned to look away but forced myself to watch, enduring the horrid scene I had caused.

_Three. _

Heather screamed every time, despite her efforts to keep silent. I bit my lip to keep myself quiet, and a metallic taste filled my mouth.

_Four._

I allowed myself a quick glance toward Ashton, disturbed to find him watching me. A chill crept down my spine as I recognized smug satisfaction in his face, subtle though it was. In that moment it struck me, more profoundly than ever before:

This was not the Ashton I knew.

He had always been arrogant, self-serving, even unfair, but never cruel. Something about him had changed… something evil.

_Five_.

By now Heather bent so far down her forehead nearly touched the floor. Her shuddering sobs filled my ears, twisting the knife in my heart.

_Six_.

"That's _enough!_" I shouted, my voice shrill. "No more!"

I tore away from the guard and threw myself at Heather's side. Gently I took her in my arms, careful not to touch her wounded back, then snapped my head up to cast Ashton a hateful, tearful glare.

"How could you do this to her, you _monster!_" I cried. "She's an innocent girl!"

Ashton shook his head. Not a trace of remorse lined his cold, neutral expression.

"It was you who brought this upon her, Zelda," he answered calmly. "You took that whip in your hands the moment you chose to flee the castle. I suggest you think twice before you defy me again."

"Guards," he then ordered. "Escort the queen to her chambers. We're finished here."

"My Lord, what of the girl?"

Ashton paused, casting her a disinterested glance. "She isn't going anywhere. Let the queen deal with her."

Then he strode out of the room, flicking his long red hair over his shoulder.

I forced him out of my head, switching my attention to Heather. Her small body shook with sobs, which she muffled against my shoulder. Tenderly I stroked her hair, whispering tearful apologies over and over again.

**xxxxxxx**

"Will they scar?"

I stood with my arms crossed, anxiously watching as my primary physician, Geoffrey Maddox, tended to the wounds which crisscrossed Heather's back. The poor girl lay face down on a small bed I had brought into my chambers for her—I had known she would feel uncomfortable using my own bed.

The back of her dress had been cut away and carefully removed so Maddox could clean her wounds—a painful experience. He had given her a potion to lessen the pain, but I knew from experience it would do little to ease her suffering. Thankfully he had added a sleep aid to the concoction. Heather had silently wept through the treatment, no doubt praying for the potion to take effect.

Feeling useless and overcome with guilt, I had braided her long hair away from her back and soothed her in whatever way I could. Eventually she had stopped responding to either of us.

"I'm afraid so," Maddox sighed. "This treatment will help minimize their appearance, but I can't erase the scars completely. Only fairy magic could do that."

I nodded solemnly. I had expected such an answer.

Silence filled the room, broken only by Heather's quiet, rhythmic breathing. I watched Maddox place bandages over her cuts, glad to see the raw, red skin covered in clean white bandages. I knew they wouldn't be so white in the morning.

"That should do it," he murmured, wrapping up his tools and setting them aside. Then he turned his attention to me, studying me with his grey-blue eyes.

Maddox was a gentle man by nature, and his grandfatherly appearance suited him well. As one of few older men blessed to have no noticeable hair loss, Maddox kept it long, pulled back into a wavy white tail. His beard he kept short, so not to interfere with his work. As a physician, Maddox had always concerned himself with maintaining a "healthy, non-hypocritical" appearance, though in his older years he had lost more muscle than he liked.

"I assume you left the castle to meet with your… well, I suppose I should start saying 'ex-husband,' strange as it feels," he said.

I gazed at Heather's sleeping face, avoiding his inquisitive eyes. "Yes."

"He is doing well, I hope?"

I looked at him then, unsure how to reply. "Well enough."

Maddox nodded. "Politics have always been a challenge for him, but Ashton has thrust him into an especially difficult position. All to gain his revenge, I'm sure."

I appreciated his sympathetic tone but failed to find a response.

"Your wrists," he then said, noticing the welts from my brief imprisonment. "Let me treat them."

"It's nothing," I brushed him off. "I can treat them myself."

"Your Majesty, as your chief physician I must insist. Please."

I sighed and reluctantly yielded, letting him dab my wrists with the same concoction he had used for Heather's wounds. I drew a sharp breath through my nose, wincing as it burned my tender skin, but otherwise made no sound. I focused on the pain, remembering how much Heather had suffered.

Gently Maddox wrapped clean bandages around my wrists, instructing me to change them every morning and every night.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked. "Anything I should know?"

I shook my head. "Don't worry about me. Heather is your patient."

"I think I can manage two patients at once."

"Yes, but it isn't necessary."

"If you insist," he sighed, turning his attention back to Heather. "Her pain medication will start to wear off before morning, but I'll return to give her another dose. If she wakes before then, go ahead and spread some of this on her wounds." He gestured to a jar of freshly mixed paste sitting on the table. "It's messy, but it does help numb the pain. Or you could use your magic, as you've done in the past."

I nodded, hoping my magic wouldn't trouble me as it had the other night. "I know."

"I realize you're more than familiar with this sort of treatment, so I'll spare you any other explanations—unless you have any questions?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Very well. I'll leave you to your meal then. I'm sure you'd like nothing more than a bath and a good night's rest. I'll return to check on Ms. Larson in the morning."

"Thank you, Maddox."

We bid each other goodnight, and quietly he left my chambers, slipping out the door as noiselessly as he could. I remained as I was, watching Heather sleep. Hunger still gnawed at my insides, and the smells wafting from my meal beckoned, but I resisted a while longer. Guilt and shame had rendered me immobile; I felt no desire to satisfy my needs.

But I felt no remorse for leaving the castle. The gods only knew what could have happened to Link, had he investigated the Forest and the Domain alone. The only sorrow I felt was for Heather, that she had suffered my punishment. _Those lashes should scar my back, not hers._

I feared her punishment had brought the end of our friendship, that she would distance herself from me—not that I would blame her. If she chose to leave, I would release her with my blessing, though I doubted Ashton would allow it. The last thing he needed was Heather flashing her scars and tarnishing his name.

I knew it was selfish to worry about such things. Heather should never have been involved with me; she deserved peace and happiness, far from Ashton's destructive reach. But it was as he had said—Heather remained my only comfort, especially now that I had lost the Ocarina. I had grown quite fond of her over the past few months; losing her friendship would bring me great sadness.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

I blinked when a quiet sound shook me from my melancholy. _Tap tap tap_.

Curiously I rose to my feet, following the sound into my bedroom—

Where I paused mid-step, lips parted in shock.

Kaepora Gaebora stood outside my balcony doors, tapping the glass with his beak.

I flew to the doors and opened them, my heart pounding in my throat. Kaepora fluttered back onto the balcony ledge, grasping the rail with one gnarly foot.

"Kaepora," I whispered, "what are you doing here?"

"Good evening, Queen Zelda. I have come at Master Link's request."

I pressed a hand to my heart, breathing a sigh of relief. "He is safe, then?"

"Yes. I flew here directly from the Lost Woods, near the Resistance base."

"Thank the gods. Is he hurt?"

"No, he escaped unscathed. But I have come with more than information," the owl added. "Master Link wanted me to return this."

He stretched his leg, revealing the large foot he had tucked under his plumage. There, grasped between his sharp talons, was the Ocarina of Time.

I gazed upon its shiny blue surface, momentarily stunned. Mixed emotions swept through me as I lifted my hand to take it…

"No." My hand paused, then fell back to my side. "I cannot accept this. Link needs it more than I do."

"He thought you might say that," Kaepora replied. "He insists that you take it, Queen Zelda."

"I know he does. But I refuse. I have no reason to take it. I will not leave the castle again; the stakes are too high. I… this isn't just about me anymore. When I leave, I put others at risk. I have to stay… for their sake. It isn't safe here anyway. Ashton is working with the necromancer. If he knows about the Stones, he could very well come for the Ocarina."

Kaepora's feathered head drooped in a sigh. "You do have a point."

"Tell Link not to worry about me," I said softly. "I can take care of myself."

The owl gave a reverent bow. "Of course, Queen Zelda. Though I doubt it will comfort him."

"I know," I murmured. "Thank you, Kaepora, for coming all this way."

We bid each other farewell, and sadly I watched him soar off into the night, wondering whether I had made the right decision.

Then quietly I stepped back into my bedroom, locked the balcony doors, and returned to the sitting room. There I paused to study Heather's still form. As I watched her face, still drawn with pain while she slept, my lingering doubts began to melt away.

"I won't leave again," I whispered. "I promise."

Deep down, however, part of me still doubted the sincerity of that promise. Perhaps that was the real reason I'd rejected the Ocarina—to trap myself within the castle.

I refocused my attention on Heather, not wanting to linger on that thought.

_If only I could make it up to her somehow_…

The thought had barely entered my mind when an idea struck.

_I can't leave the castle… but I know someone who can._

Grasping my newfound resolve, I turned away and sat before my cold meal. I ate in deep contemplation, tasting little and savoring nothing.

**xxxxxxx**

I stood once again in the supplies room—where Heather's abuse had taken place—gathering my wits about me. I had risen early that morning—long before Ashton usually left his chambers. I had hoped to slip into the dungeons, complete my mission, and slip out before he could take notice.

Maddox had come to check on Heather, just as he promised. Knowing she was in good hands, I had left to carry out the plan I pieced together the previous night.

The fear of failure weighed on my shoulders, despite my attempts to shake it off. I knew my success depended on my outward confidence, my authoritative demeanor. My title meant little to the Vandelian guards standing beyond the thick iron door. Their loyalty lay only with Ashton. I needed to force their compliance—without interrogation.

Drawing a deep, calming breath, I turned the iron knob and strode into the dungeon, not bothering to acknowledge the Vandelians standing on either side.

"Hey," they called, "what do you think you're doing?"

I paused and turned to face them, wearing a mask of impatience.

"I have come to release a prisoner, of course," I replied. "I suggest you accompany me."

They frowned, seemingly taken aback. "Only Lord Ashton can release prisoners."

I had expected such a response.

"This prisoner is mine," I told them. "I sentenced him long before Ashton came here."

"Don't matter. Lord Ashton has complete jurisdiction over prisoners—"

"Except those I have sentenced," I finished with feigned annoyance. "Ashton has granted me that much."

The guards hesitated, clearly unconvinced.

"This is a minor affair," I added. "The prisoner has merely finished his sentence. Ashton could not care less, but I will bring your objection before him, if need be. I can't say he'll be pleased to hear it."

I started back toward the door, pausing when the guards side-stepped to block my path. Their showy armor gleamed in the torchlight, but I refused to be intimidated.

"If this is so minor," one of them challenged, "why have you not sent another in your stead?"

"That's obvious enough," I replied, crossing my arms. "I don't trust anyone else to do it. The man is a deserter, and I want no further harm done to him. He has fulfilled the punishment I gave him, and he's earned the right to leave the castle grounds unhindered. I've already explained this to Ashton. But, if I must bore him a second time, I will."

Again I started toward them, intending to leave the dungeons, but they did not step aside. I could see their confidence had lessened—if only slightly.

"Wait," the left guard said, casting his partner a subtle look. "That won't be necessary… Lead us to your prisoner."

I did so with an air of irritation, striding with outward calmness toward Adam's cell. Secretly my heart pounded, caught between elation and lingering nerves.

Adam had been placed in a low-security cell, held inside by thick, iron bars instead of a solid wall. My movements grew increasingly rigid as we approached him, and anxiously I waited for the guards to recognize him.

Sure enough, a large hand snatched my elbow, jerking me to a stop and dragging me back toward the exit.

"That man is your prisoner?" the guard hissed. "He is associated with the girl that was flogged yesterday. Lord Ashton would never release him!"

I breathed a quiet sigh. While I was capable of improvisation, Link had always been the master at thinking on his feet. I preferred to come prepared for any obstacle, and that moment was no exception.

"I realize that," I muttered. "Unhand me and I will explain."

He did so, roughly. Both guards crossed their arms and waited, their emerald eyes narrowed.

"As part of our arrangement," I said quietly, "I have agreed to take responsibility for what happened to the girl."

Surprise lit their hardened features. "You mean… tell him you did it?" one asked.

I swallowed, wetting my dry throat. "Yes… if need be."

They exchanged looks, clearly amused by my predicament. "That's the real reason you came in person, isn't it?"

"…Yes."

It made a convincing story, at least.

"He'll tell everyone, you know," the left guard mocked, throwing another smug grin at his partner. "Can't be good for your reputation."

"But very good for Lord Ashton's," the other laughed.

Again I swallowed, struggling to ignore the weight in my chest.

"That's the idea," I murmured.

_I'll be his scapegoat, just as he made Heather mine._

"Quite a price to pay for a deserter," said the guard to my right.

I shot him a glare. "This isn't about him."

"Quite a price to pay for a servant girl," the other smirked.

Anger sparked within me, burning away my nerves. "I don't expect you to understand," I snapped. "Now let me pass."

They did so willingly, and I could feel their laughing eyes on my back. A sudden surge of anxiety left me more rigid than ever, but l I strode toward Adam's cell without hesitation. _I will free him. No matter what the cost._

The young deserter had obviously anticipated my coming, having heard me argue with the guards earlier. He awaited me there in his cell, his worried face peering through the bars.

"Your Majesty?" he called to me, his voice hoarse from lack of use. "Please… Those cries I heard yesterday, they sounded so much like Heather… But she's supposed to be with my parents, isn't she?"

The change in his appearance startled me. Gone were his soft, boyish features, replaced with the gaunt look of a prisoner. His wide, brown eyes held fear of a different kind, a more mature kind—one unconcerned with himself.

"Mr. Carter," I said quietly, choosing to ignore his question. "I have come to release you. Consider your sentence fulfilled."

He stared at me, his fear mixing with disbelief.

"F-Fulfilled?" he rasped. "But I…I haven't—"

"Considering the crime now branded upon you," I cut him off, "I suggest you leave the castle grounds quickly and quietly."

He furrowed his brow, torn between his love for Heather and his fear of me.

"But your Majesty, please, the voice… I must know who it was."

Behind me the guards stepped a little closer. _Tell him_, their actions spoke.

I drew a deep breath and released it in a huff, a sound Adam mistook for frustration.

"Yes, Carter. It was Heather you heard last night."

He staggered back, a look of horror claiming his pale face.

"Heather," he whispered. "What has happened to her?"

"That is not your concern."

"Not my concern?" he stammered. "I'm going to marry her; of course it's my concern!" Desperately he clutched the bars, his voice rising with every word. "Please, tell me what happened to her!"

Sympathy flared within me; I knew his pain all too well. But my sympathy would not free him. My indifference would.

"I've come to release you, Carter, nothing more. I suggest you show some gratitude."

He blinked, momentarily stunned. I could guess what he was thinking. _This is the queen Heather so willingly serves?_

"I won't go until I see her," he said with a surprisingly firm tone. "I know she's here—I'd rather stay in this cell than run from her."

"I forbid it. You will leave the castle grounds when I say, by force if need be."

"It was Ashton, wasn't it?" he hissed, tightening his grasp on the bars. "He did this to her!"

"Ashton has no interest in a servant girl."

"Who else could cause her to…" Adam broke off, looking away as he composed himself. "To scream like that?" he whispered.

"The price of disobedience within the castle walls is higher than you realize, Carter," I answered coldly, securing the walls around my heart. "Heather crossed a line, and she was flogged as punishment."

"She was whipped?" he stammered, the blood draining from his face. "Oh, gods…" He bowed his head, clenching his teeth as he struggled to contain his rage. "Is she…?"

"Her wounds have been treated. I have allowed her some time to recover."

"Please, please let me see her…"

I shook my head. "I cannot."

"It was Ashton," he rasped, tears glinting in his eyes. "Only he could be so cruel."

One of the guards coughed behind me. _Enough stalling_.

"You are mistaken, Carter," I replied, struggling to keep my voice strong and my mask in place. "Heather's punishment was my doing. I allowed it."

For a moment he simply stared, caught between anger and confusion.

"I don't believe you," he whispered. "I can't… Heather's always spoken so highly of you."

"Yes, well, she always was rather naïve. Turns out she had grown a little too comfortable with her position."

My ability to present such lies so convincingly both impressed and disturbed me.

Adam looked appalled. "How… How can you say that? After everything she's done for you?"

"Hold your tongue, deserter," I snapped. "You forget your place. The girl is forbidden to leave the castle, but you are forbidden to return. Guards!"

They came forward, their armor clinking loudly.

"I want this man out of my castle. See that he is removed from the grounds—permanently."

"Certainly, your Majesty."

One guard grasped the cell door while the other fingered through his ring of keys. Adam clutched the bars, eyeing me with something more than hatred.

Betrayal.

"No, you can't separate us!" he begged. "Please, just let me see her! _Please!_"

I turned away, finding no reason to linger.

"She trusted you! She _admired _you!" His desperate cries followed my every step, raw with emotion. "How could you do this? I won't forgive you! I won't!"

The words struck my core, crashing against the walls I kept reinforced. I clung to the hope that later, after he had calmed down and allowed himself to think clearly, he would realize what I had done for him. Surely he would see that releasing him with such knowledge about Heather, especially before he had finished his sentence for desertion, was folly? Surely he would remember the kindness I had shown him, back before I had sentenced him?

…Or had branding him burned away his trust? Did he think me cruel, despite the death penalty that had loomed over him?

Tears stung my eyes as I left the dungeon and stepped into the bright castle halls. Self-doubt held me in its tight grasp, dragging me down into a dark place. I tried to shake it off but found I could not. I longed for Link's loving support, for Impa's motherly reassurances. I missed them so fiercely I nearly succumbed to tears right there in the corridor.

The feeling hit me with such force it brought a strong wave of dizziness. My vision swerved as I steadied myself against the wall, but I managed to keep walking.

Quickly I turned my thoughts to reason, burying my emotions deep down. If Adam failed to understand what I had done for him, he would surely spread the word about my supposed cruelty. Considering half my people already thought me a traitor, the letter "D" scarred into his flesh might only aid his claims.

Still, if he caught the attention of the people, he would draw the attention of the Resistance—and that of their leader. Link would want him silenced; that much was certain. He knew little of Heather's involvement, but he didn't need the details to see through my actions.

I sincerely hoped Adam found himself at Link's mercy—not simply so he could correct Adam's misplaced hatred. Ashton would surely keep Heather close, trapping her and her tale of woe within the castle walls. Even if I found a way to free her, the two would live in constant fear of being sought out and subjected to worse punishment. Or they could flee Hyrule entirely, which neither of them wanted.

Much like my future with Link, the fate of Heather and Adam now depended upon the victory of the Resistance.

**xxxxxxx**

Heather had not yet woken when I returned to my chambers. For this reason Maddox had chosen not to change her bandages, now stained with blood, and I had assured him I would do it when she woke. I imagined she would want a bath first, and hopefully some breakfast. I intended to serve her every need, just as she had served mine. Confident that I could take good care of her, Maddox had left me alone with her, and to my thoughts.

I refused to leave my chambers, fearing Heather might wake to an empty room. I trusted no one to even briefly care for her in my stead. Thus I declined to attend court, but Ashton had yet to send an attendant demanding my presence. His silence unnerved me; hopefully he only wished to avoid me a short while, let things calm down between us. I would allow that calm—for now.

There had once been a line even Ashton wouldn't cross—one of violence without reason, of cruelty toward the innocent. Not only had he crossed it, but I feared it had dissolved entirely, scraped away to make room for his tyrannical agenda.

I couldn't see why his actions had shocked me so much. There had been signs that something evil had invaded him… hadn't there? Had this change really been so sudden? The staff he so lovingly protected was evil; I should have known it would influence him somehow.

Everything always came back to the staff, the source of our troubles.

_No,_ I corrected myself. _The necromancer is. _

I could do nothing about him. Not yet, at least. The staff, however, remained within my reach—surely I could still remove it somehow?

I fell into contemplation, struggling to find some solution, when a soft murmur broke through my thoughts. I turned to see Heather stir against her pillow, her brow furrowing as the pain set in.

"Heather?" I flew to her bedside. "Are you awake?"

"Mm," she mumbled, opening her eyes a crack. "M'Lady…?"

"You must be in terrible pain," I soothed, reaching for the medicine Maddox had left. "Here, drink more of this; it will help. Can you sit up?"

Carefully I helped her into an upright position, wincing when she gave a pained whimper.

"Here you are," I whispered, handing her the small vial.

She took it with shaky hands and brought it to her lips. I watched her sip the thick concoction, giving her a sympathetic look when she nearly gagged.

"It's easier if you finish it in one gulp," I said gently.

She took a steadying breath and tipped the bottle back once more, forcing herself to swallow. She clutched the bed sheets with one hand, her lips pressed together and her eyes closed. I feared she'd be sick.

"Should I bring you a bucket?" I lay a hand on her shoulder, partly to steady her. Just watching her made me feel a little nauseated myself.

She gave a slight shake of her head. "I'm okay."

Then she opened her eyes and relaxed a bit, much to my relief. I took the empty vial and set it aside.

"Do you think you could eat something?" I asked. "You'll need to keep up your strength…"

"Maybe…" she replied weakly. "I could try."

I moved to the breakfast cart the servants had wheeled in earlier, feeling oddly nervous. I realized how backward it was for a queen to wait on her maid, but Heather's comfort had become my immediate concern. Quickly I filled her tray with bread and a bowl of hot cucco soup—but then paused, unsure where to put it. She couldn't lie back against her pillows; the pressure would only agitate her wounds.

"Here," I said, placing her tray on the small table where Link and I used to have breakfast. The chairs were cushioned, and I added a couple of throw pillows—scarce though they were. Heather could rest against them without her back touching the chair. "This should be more comfortable for you."

I helped her up off the bed and guided her over to the chair, where she slowly sank down against the pillows.

"There," I murmured, smoothing her hair back out of her face and tucking it behind her pointed ear. "Is that better?"

She nodded. "Thank you," she mumbled, picking up her spoon.

"Oh, Heather," I whispered, kneeling down to touch her pale cheek. "You have no reason to thank me for anything. I am so, so sorry I involved you in this… Can you ever forgive me?"

She gave me a quizzical look. "You didn't hurt me. Ashton did."

Her words brought a flutter of relief, one quickly choked away by guilt.

"But he hurt you because of me," I said softly, blinking back tears. "You should hate me for this."

"I could never hate you," she replied, holding my gaze. "And I pushed you to leave, remember? It was my idea."

The words _But I never should have gone_ collected on my tongue, yet I swallowed them, unwilling to voice a lie. I did not regret helping Link that night. Instead I chose to respond with something more positive.

"I wanted to do something that could help make it up to you," I said slowly, settling into the chair beside her. "I know I can't take away your pain, but I thought I could maybe ease your mind a bit."

She let her spoon rest against her bowl and looked at me. "What do you mean?"

I drew a deep breath and released it, struggling to ignore Adam's angry cries still ringing through my ears.

"I've decided to release Adam," I said quietly. "It's already been done."

Heather stared at me, wide-eyed.

"My Lady…" she breathed.

"And once you're well enough," I added, "I want you to go be with him."

"You mean…" she hesitated, struggling to understand, "…leave the castle?"

"Yes. I'll get you out, one way or another. You've suffered more than enough pain here."

"But… what about you…?"

I gave her a weak smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be—"

I broke off, unable to finish as another wave of nausea suddenly rose within me. The feeling grew at an alarming rate, forcing me up from my chair.

"My Lady?" Heather looked up with confusion.

But I clapped a hand over my mouth and fled, reaching the bathroom just in time to retch.

Eventually my body allowed me to catch my breath, and slowly I sank to floor, supported by my palms against the tiles. My elbows shook from the strain, and my sudden weakness alarmed me. Wisps of hair clung to my skin, held by a thin layer of sweat.

I sat back against the cold wall, dragging a trembling hand across my forehead.

A soft knock sounded at the door. "My Lady?" came Heather's small, muffled voice. "Are you all right?"

I cursed myself for drawing her away from the table.

"Yes, I... I just need a minute. Go on back to the table; you shouldn't be walking around."

"I—all right."

Her footsteps faded as she returned to her breakfast. Relieved, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, too sick to do much else.

_Why does this keep happening? _

Panic seized me as I considered the possibilities. _Could Ashton be doing this? Keeping me ill to control me?_ He controlled the entire castle staff after all; doing so would be frighteningly easy for him…

I shoved those thoughts aside and took another deep, calming breath, relieved that I could do so without another wave of nausea. I pondered my symptoms, searching for an explanation. _Reoccurring nausea, fatigue, soreness..._

And then it struck me—hard. My body went rigid, my eyes wide. _It can't be…_

My heart hammered against my chest. _That night in Gerudo Valley..._ Nearly two months had passed since then.

_Two months! _My hand flew to my mouth, muffling something between a laugh and a sob.

_I'm late. Two months late. _How had I not realized it sooner?

I touched my abdomen, letting silent tears stream down my face. My other hand still covered my mouth, muffling the few shaky breaths that slipped between my fingers. We had shared one night, one night in nearly four months of separation, and that had been enough. After two years of trying and failing, one night had been enough.

_A baby_, the words echoed through my mind like music. _At last, at last…_

Then I buried my face in my hands, sobbing without restraint as the floodgates gave way. Laughter bubbled to the surface, shedding my grief with its clear, genuine sound. I felt suddenly lighter, free of my misery. My spirit rose and soared, suspended in a moment of pure, uninhabited joy.


	27. Chapter XXVII

AN: Thanks for reading! Please, please review!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXVII

I stood before my wide bay window, clutching my saffron shawl around my shoulders. Outside the usual rainclouds darkened the sky, and the lingering afternoon fog blotted out the rooftops of Castletown. All of this I barely registered; my mind had long drifted elsewhere.

The joy I'd felt after realizing my condition remained, but it had been tempered by fear—by terror, more like. The loss my first child remained painfully fresh in my mind, and I would do everything in my power to keep my unborn son or daughter alive and well. But considering I had no power, this was easier said than done. Ashton remained my greatest threat, as he harbored an obsessive need to father my firstborn. If he discovered Link and I had finally conceived he would stop at nothing to terminate our baby's life.

I closed my eyes, pulling the shawl closer as terror squeezed my weary heart. How could I protect my child when Ashton controlled the entire castle staff? He could slip something into my food—that's all it would take. No one could accuse him of anything. Ashton was untouchable, and I was vulnerable.

I had only one solution: Ashton could not find out. I knew I had another month or two before I started to show, but I feared my symptoms would give me away long before that. Ashton was quite informed about the early signs of pregnancy.

I would have to keep it a secret from everyone, even Heather. I had lied about my emotional scene in the bathroom that day, brushing it off as a stress release. I feared I could not keep up the charade very long, but I had to try. I had no other options.

I desperately longed to leave the castle. I knew others could suffer in my absence, but my child's safety had naturally become my top priority. Every day I cursed myself for refusing the Ocarina. Escaping would have been so easy…

Tears stung my eyes as regret burned through me yet again. I was forced to blink them away, however, when my chamber doors suddenly burst open. My usual guards stepped inside and held the doors open.

"His Majesty, Lord Ashton," one announced.

Ashton strode into the room, wearing a showy tunic the same dark blue as Link's uniform.

"Good afternoon, Zelda dear," he grinned.

Behind him followed three maids, each carrying flat boxes of varying sizes.

"What is this?" I asked, watching the servants carry the boxes into my bedroom. The noise had woken Heather, who also watched from her bed with nervous eyes.

"Surely you haven't forgotten our celebration tonight?" Ashton inquired. "Consider this the first of my many gifts to you, my future bride."

I could guess what lay inside the boxes.

"I don't want your gifts," I growled. "And I don't want you dressing me."

"Oh, but come and see, dearest." Ashton placed his hand on my back, ushering me toward the bedroom. I quickly moved away, entering before he could touch me again.

The maids had opened the boxes for me, revealing a folded blood red gown. It glimmered in the light, setting off the patterned stitching of the bodice. Another box contained what I recognized to be a corset, something very unpopular in Hylian society—so unpopular that my father had banned their production and sale. Women could still wear them, if they happened to purchase one abroad, but most Hylians frowned upon it.

"Stunning, isn't it?" Ashton beamed. "This is the latest fashion in Vandelius, and you will wear it as a sign of good faith toward my homeland. The guests will love it, especially when they see how well you wear it. You'll be absolutely ravishing."

I said nothing. I had known Ashton would make me his trophy at the engagement party, but the gown was worse than I had expected. Of course it was immodest, but the corset worried me more than anything. It would be dangerous in my condition, not to mention severely uncomfortable.

"Maids," Ashton addressed them. They all looked up simultaneously. "See that her Majesty is properly dressed for the party tonight. She is to wear everything in these boxes—and I mean _everything_," he added, casting me a warning look.

Then his features softened as he reached for my cheek. "I look forward to the final result," he purred.

I turned away from his touch, suppressing the nerves which bubbled up inside. Illness had plagued me all morning long; I could only hope the feeling would fade soon. Enduring the party would be challenging enough without dizziness and nausea.

One Ashton had gone, the maids sat me down before my vanity, combing my hair in preparation for the hairdresser Ashton had assigned to me.

Minutes later a slender Vandelian woman with cold green eyes and a sour expression strode into the bedroom. She shooed the maids away like dogs and finished what they had started, running the comb through my long hair with quick, merciless strokes. I winced constantly but managed to keep silent, warily noticing how tight she wore her own red curls.

After an hour of painful pulling, pinning, and curling, the hairdresser clipped strands of rubies into my hair and clapped her hands.

"Beautiful!" she praised.

Then she left without another word, and the maids returned to strip me down to my undergarments. I'd been through the routine many times before, but that time I felt oddly exposed and anxious.

_There's nothing to see, _I reminded myself. _Not for a while yet. They have no reason to suspect._

An older maid came forward with the corset, her expression grim.

"I will not wear that," I said sharply. "Put it away."

She hesitated, unsure how to respond.

"But Lord Ashton—"

"I don't care what he said. Put it away, or I'll set it on fire."

Knowing I could do just that—ordinarily, at least—the maid moved to place the corset back in its box. I could see my refusal frightened her; no one disobeyed Ashton's direct orders.

"I will take the blame," I assured her. "If he even notices."

Inwardly, however, I feared he would somehow harm her to punish me, just as he'd done to Heather. It was a risk I had to take.

Having skipped the corset, the maids helped me pull on stockings and then into the gown itself. Nervously I stepped inside its full, layered skirts, and slipped my arms through the tiny sleeves. The maids straightened the material over my shoulders before tying the bodice in the back. Forcing the thick, taut layers of fabric in place required some strength, and I gasped at every rough tug.

"Please, that's too tight," I whispered, pressing a nervous hand to my flat stomach. My nausea had fortunately worn off, but I had no desire to lure it back. Reluctantly the maid loosened the cord, allowing me to take a short breath without pain.

The other maids bustled about, adding finishing touches such as jewelry and makeup. Then finally the eldest fluffed my skirts and urged me to look in the mirror.

"Does your Majesty approve?" she asked.

I stared, appalled by my own reflection. The neckline fell scandalously low, exposing far too much of my slightly swollen breasts and shoving them upward. My back, too, remained completely naked all the way down to my waist.

More rubies had been strung around my neck, but they barely fell past my collarbone. My eyes had been lined in black, my eyelids dusted in gold, and my lips painted red.

The mirror blurred as tears stung my eyes. I looked gorgeous, utterly desirable, and I'd never felt more ashamed. No gown had ever exposed so much of me to the public eye. To let so many men see what had always been reserved for Link—only Link—made me feel disloyal and cheap.

"Your Majesty?"

"I think you should be asking whether Ashton will approve," I told her, turning away from the mirror. "And I am sure he will. Now please leave me; I wish to be alone before he parades me about."

Solemnly they obeyed, curtsying before they left the room. I sank onto the bed but then stood, finding it too uncomfortable, and carefully dabbed at my wet eyes. Smudging my makeup would not help anything.

"My Lady?"

I looked up to see Heather peeking in the doorway, concern lining her pale face.

"Heather, go lie down," I said in a weak voice. "I don't want you to see me like this."

She inched closer, leaning against the door frame. "Like what? You look beautiful..."

I spied my shawl hanging on my vanity chair and moved to grab it, covering myself before she could look more closely.

"No respectable woman should dress like this," I said bitterly. "Certainly not a queen. If not for the skirts I'd look like a harlot."

"Don't say such things!" Heather exclaimed. "You will always be a true lady, no matter what you wear."

I smiled gently. "You're sweet, Heather. But I doubt the guests will agree. Ashton isn't simply showing me off. He means to humiliate me."

"He said this is the latest fashion in Vandelius," Heather murmured. "Won't the other ladies be wearing similar gowns?"

"Oh, I'm quite certain they will be. But they're as hypocritical as they come. I will be judged unfairly, especially by my own court."

Heather sighed and came closer to take my free hand.

"I'm sorry, my Lady. I would go in your place if I could."

"You just focus on feeling better," I murmured. "It will be over by morning."

_Nayru, let time be swift this night._

**xxxxxxx**

Nervously I walked the corridors, shadowed as always by Vandelian guards. The loud _cla-clack_ of my heels pounded against my ears, for each step brought me toward the last place I wanted to go: Ashton's engagement party. _Our_ engagement party.

Our first had been miserable enough. I had recently broken off my relationship with Link and truly believed I would become Ashton's wife. The similarities between the past and present disturbed me. I had recently annulled my marriage to Link, after all, and Ashton still held the power to make me his wife.

But that would never happen. I would escape the castle first… somehow.

_Just make it through tonight first._

As I neared the entranceway to the ballroom grand staircase, I caught sight of Ashton waiting there with his hands clasped behind his back.

He wore a long black coat with extravagant gold embroidery along the collar and sleeve cuffs. Beneath the coat I saw a golden vest covering a frilled white shirt, and his black trousers had been tucked into polished black boots. A scarf the same red as my gown had been tucked into his vest. His auburn hair fell loosely against his back, held in place by a ruby-laden crown.

He turned as I approached, studying me with a slow, satisfied smile.

"Perfect," he breathed. "Absolutely perfect. I knew it would be. Every man in that room will be lusting for you." He stepped closer then, trailing his fingers along the ends of my curls. "But only I will be satisfied…"

His fingers traced the curve of my neck, traveling over my clavicle and downward…

I slapped his arm away, unable to stand another second of it.

"Don't touch me," I whispered, avoiding his gaze.

"Don't _touch_ you?" He snatched me by the jaw, digging his fingers into my cheeks.

"You still don't understand, do you? You are _mine _now. You do whatever I say, and I can touch you whenever I damn well please."

To demonstrate, he grabbed the back of my neck and forced his mouth to mine, kissing me savagely. With a muffled cry I fought to break away, pressing my lips together to keep out his tongue. Then his other hand grabbed my breast and squeezed—hard. I cried out as the searing pain ripped through me, forcing sobs up my throat.

"Have I made myself clear?" Ashton hissed in my ear.

I struggled to find my voice, caught in a hot blaze of pain.

His grip tightened on my neck. "Answer me!"

"Yes!" I choked, desperate to make him stop.

Roughly he released me. My hand hovered over my chest while the other wiped my mouth, but I could not ease the throbbing pain. Tears streaked my face, but I managed to suppress the sobs burning my throat.

Ashton snapped his fingers, ordering some attendants to fix my makeup. They scurried off and reappeared minutes later to dab away my tears and repaint my lips.

"Now dry your eyes," Ashton snapped, grabbing my elbow and forcing me toward the ballroom entrance. "And put a smile on that pretty face."

He dragged me toward the double doors which led straight onto the grand stairway. The muffled strums of the orchestra pricked my ears—Ashton's guests had already gathered beyond those doors.

"Take my arm," he growled. "And I told you to smile."

Finding no desire to test his anger again, I did as he asked. My arm loosely hooked onto his elbow, and I managed to mask my misery with a more pleasant, but neutral, expression. I could not find the strength to smile.

The guards opened the doors for us, and together we stepped forward. A sea of faces and vibrant gowns opened up before us, and the chatter quieted as the crowd took notice of their king and queen.

A variety of expressions watched as we descended the stairs—frozen smiles, cheerful smiles, pursed lips... I could practically feel their stunned disapproval as they registered my appearance.

But I held my head high, refusing to crumple beneath their judgmental eyes. My mind sought refuge in my memories, thinking back to my second engagement party, when I had entered the ballroom in a similar fashion. I had worn a far more elegant gown of cascading lilac, one suitable for a lady. I had beamed at my guests, near bursting with pride and joy over the man at my side. Link had been too nervous to share my exuberance, but the crowd saw only the calm, collected leader of their military forces. Dressed in his new formal uniform, Link had appeared every bit the Lord General he would soon become.

A fresh wave of sorrow washed over me, forcing me to blink back tears. How I longed to return to that night…

Ashton led me to the center of the dance floor, wearing his broad, arrogant smile. His hand grabbed my waist, making my skin crawl, and the other snatched my hand. I placed a limp hand on his shoulder and forced my gaze to his. The orchestra struck up a waltz, and Ashton led me into the dance. We glided across the floor, both of us having mastered the dance in our adolescent years. _To think there had once been a time when I enjoyed dancing with him…_

"Fix your expression," he snarled through an empty smile. "Misery does not become you."

I shot him an icy glare but forced a mask back onto my face.

"You'll have to do better than that," Ashton said. "I want you glowing."

I turned my face away, unable to do as he asked. Instead I let my mind drift away, back to a better place...

.

"_You are absolutely glowing." _

_I turned to face my dance partner, taking his hand as the orchestra began a slower, more romantic piece._

"_Glowing?"_

"_Yes. I don't think you've stopped smiling since we made our entrance." A gentle smile ghosted his own lips._

"_And why should I?" I beamed. "I have every reason to be smiling tonight. You, however, look much too serious," I added, playfully deepening my voice. "Aren't you happy to be marrying me?" I tilted my head, earning another brighter smile._

"_More than you know," Link murmured, tightening his hold on my waist._

"_More than anyone knows, judging by your expression," I teased. "You don't want to look cross at your own engagement party, do you?"_

"_I don't look cross," he defended, glancing at the other dancers. "It's just so hard to believe… even now."_

"_Really? It still hasn't sunk in for you? You proposed to me months ago, silly."_

_He shook his head, his eyes going distant. "Half my mind is still on the battlefield, I think."_

_Concern crossed my features, but Link recovered and shook his head._

"_I'm sorry, that was just—"_

"_Link, don't apologize—"_

"_No, I don't want to be like that. Especially tonight." His gloved hand slid up my back, pulling me closer as we swayed in time with the music. "All I could think about was you," he murmured. "You'd think it'd have been easier, knowing I was finally yours, but I still felt so anxious over you, as though I could lose you somehow… And now we're here, but I still can't seem to relax…"_

_I gazed up at him, aching with sympathy. "Darling, I don't expect one month to undo five years of war…" I slid my hand along his shoulder, gently stroking the back of his neck. "It will take time, and that's okay. I'll be right here for you, for the rest of our life together."_

"_I know," he whispered, his eyes sparkling in the light. "And I for you."_

_He lowered his face to mine, giving me a quick, tender kiss. He knew doing so would draw the attention of our guests, but neither of us cared. After five years of hiding our love, a little public affection felt liberating. This was _our_ night._

"_Have I told you how incredibly handsome you look?" I sighed, smoothing a few loose strands of his hair, which had been combed back away from his face._

"_Yes, you have," he smiled. "But don't get used to it. I look as hoity-toity as the rest of them."_

_I laughed softly. "Hm, is that why you allowed it?"_

_He cast me a playful glare, then smiled. _

"_Perhaps," he admitted, glancing at the other dancers, "in a moment of insanity."_

_I gave another quieter laugh and lay my cheek against his chest. Link rested his head against mine, leading us through the last minute of the dance. _

"_I'm so happy I could burst," I murmured._

"_Please don't," he replied. "No one wants to see that."_

_I lifted my head to frown at him, finally earning a laugh as he kissed my forehead, just above my pearl-laden circlet._

_._

"Pining for your beloved?"

Ashton's voice shook me from my reverie.

"Always," I hissed. "My thoughts are always with him."

He narrowed his eyes. "You hold on to those precious memories, little Zelda," he murmured, squeezing my waist. "Soon they'll be all you have left of him."

His icy tone sent a chill down my spine, but before I could respond the orchestra finished their number and the dancers slowed to a stop, offering their applause. Ashton raised his hands, motioning for silence.

"Welcome!" his cheerful voice rang through the chamber. "My friends, Vandelians and Hylians alike!"

The crowd received him warmly; everywhere I looked I saw smiles.

"Tonight marks the beginning of a beautiful union between my homeland and my home away from home-land."

Ashton laughed at his own joke, a sound echoed by his guests. I remained silent, my expression solemn.

"Three weeks from today," he went on, "I shall take this beautiful, extraordinary woman as my wife, solidifying the bond between our two glorious kingdoms. So I'd like to begin our celebration with the symbolic gesture," he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small black box, "of giving her this ring."

I swallowed, unsure where to look. I had suspected he would give me a ring, but that hardly made the moment any less unpleasant.

"Seven years ago," Ashton said, "I offered Zelda this very ring in this very ballroom. Today I am pleased to place it on her finger with the confidence that a wedding is sure to follow."

The crowd's laughter jarred my ears, and I suddenly felt like the object of some awful joke.

Ashton grabbed my hand and slowly, dramatically slipped the large diamond ring onto my finger. I had removed Link's mother's ring some time ago, fearing Ashton might take it. It saddened me to see something so gaudy and meaningless take its place.

Applause filled the room once again, growing louder as he lifted my hand to his lips.

"With this ring I claim you," he murmured, his green eyes boring into mine.

Then he signaled to the orchestra, and music filled the chamber once again.

Ashton forced me through three more dances before he allowed others to have a turn with me. Again and again I glided across the floor, struggling to ignore my aching feet while making awkward conversation with Vandelian lords. Although Ashton had invited guests from all over the world to our wedding, only Vandelians and Hylians had attended that night.

Repeatedly I scanned the crowd, recognizing many faces but failing to find those of my Council. I had hoped to speak with them, if only briefly. Finally I excused myself for a break by the banquet tables, hoping to see them there.

But Ashton had already posted himself there amidst the crowd, much to my dismay. Immediately he called me over, insisting I join his dull conversation with more Vandelian lords.

"Champagne, your Majesties?" a servant asked, offering us a tray of tall, thin glasses.

"Absolutely," Ashton murmured, taking a glass and bringing it to his lips.

I shook my head and waved the tray away. "Just water, please."

"Nonsense, Zelda," Ashton thrust a glass into my hand. "Don't be a spoilsport."

I sighed and held the drink, trying to appear interested in the conversation while looking for a way out. Ashton's hand touched the small of my back, and I fought the desire to pull away.

We stood talking for what felt like hours until someone finally interrupted.

"Might I have this dance, your Majesty?"

I turned to see yet another middle-aged, stocky Vandelian lord. He offered me his large hand, though his eyes rested on Ashton, much to my annoyance.

"Of course," Ashton and I said in unison. Quickly I set my untouched glass aside and took the lord's hand, avoiding Ashton's glare.

He led me back onto the dance floor while I anxiously searched the crowd. I recognized many faces, though none belonged to my ministers. My weary spirits sank all the more; Ashton had probably forbidden their attendance.

_Out of sight, out of mind._

"...to your liking?"

I turned back to my dance partner. "I'm sorry?"

The lord's green eyes stared unblinkingly into mine, most likely to resist glancing at my bosom.

"I trust the party is to your liking?" he repeated.

"What I think doesn't matter," I told him. "Your king has made that quite clear."

"You are unhappy with the union between our kingdoms?" Irritation chilled his tone.

"I welcome an alliance with Vandelius," I calmly replied. "I simply wish your king hadn't seized my throne and severed my marriage to acquire it."

The orchestra struck up a livelier tune, and my feet throbbed in protest as we quickened our pace, stepping in time with the other dancers. A few twirls later I found myself struggling to keep up, and in my weariness I caught the lord's toes with my foot.

"Oh, my apologies..."

"It's quite all right, your Majesty."

But just a few steps later my vision swerved, and I grew suddenly short of breath.

_Oh no..._

The room began to sway, tilting until the other guests stood nearly sideways. I closed my eyes, clutching my dance partner's shoulder as I struggled to stay upright.

"Your Majesty?"

He sounded as though an invisible wall has risen between us, muffling his strange, echo-like voice. The music faded into the background, drowned out by a loud ringing in my ears.

"I... I need to sit down," I stammered.

I pulled away, trying to meander through the dancers and off the floor. Some nearly crashed into me, but I stumbled on with mumbled apologies. Darkness began to cloud the edges of my vision...

_Not now, please not now..._

But exhaustion took me, and my knees gave way as I helplessly collapsed to the floor.

**xxxxxxx**

"So you don't feel any nausea this morning?"

I sat rigidly in my bed, dressed in my nightgown and robe. Maddox sat beside me, asking questions regarding my fainting spell the previous night. Beside him stood Ashton, his arms crossed as he listened to my responses. A frown darkened his face—one that most likely hadn't left his face since he finished the party without me.

"None," I lied. "I've already told you, the dress was too tight."

"You weren't even wearing the corset," Ashton said.

"I doubt I would have made it through those dances if I had," I defended.

"Have you experienced any reoccurring nausea at other times of the day?" Maddox asked me.

"No."

"Then you should be able to join me for breakfast this morning," Ashton murmured, his eyes boring into mine.

"I… I could," I said, struggling to hide my uneasiness. "Though I don't have much of an appetite."

"I think you should remain in bed at least until midday," Maddox advised. "Have you been feeling unusually tired lately? Fatigued?"

"No more than usual," I answered. "I haven't slept well in months."

"You have dealt with a great deal of stress," he replied, jotting some notes into the little book he always carried with him. "You have always been fragile, much like your mother was, bless her soul."

I looked at him, masking my surprise. That was a lie, and he knew it. I had never shown any signs of inheriting my mother's fragility.

_Does he know…?_

"I don't recall her ever suffering from poor health," Ashton commented.

"Her condition is not as serious as her mother's was. She hides it well, but it does worsen with age… Her stress combined with an uncomfortably tight gown and a lack of sleep could have easily caused her to faint."

Ashton's eyes remained fixed on me.

"You would have every reason to lie about those symptoms," he murmured. "I will be watching you… very closely."

I forced a weak, bitter laugh. "Go ahead," I replied. "It was impossible enough when I actually had the opportunity. I find your suspicion rather encouraging."

He leaned closer then, his emerald eyes narrowing.

"In all the years I've known you, I can recall you fainting only once—and that was quite recently. A short time after that incident you miscarried a child you didn't even realize you had conceived. Months later you managed to flee to castle, straight into your peasant's arms, and I _know_ you made the most of it."

I avoided his gaze, fearful he might see the truth in my eyes.

"If I find out you are carrying another of that bastard's offspring," he added, contempt frosting his tone, "you won't find me so encouraging."

"It is unlikely, my Lord," Maddox spoke up, "considering her history—and that of her mother."

Ashton straightened and cast him a warning glare. "Her firstborn will be mine," he murmured. "Every child she bears will be mine. _No_ exceptions."

I chanced him a quick glare, one he coldly returned. But my voice had long retreated, silenced by the pounding of my heart.

Thankfully he had finished and soundly strode from the room, his footsteps thumping against the floor. Maddox and I listened until my chamber doors slammed shut.

I covered my face, unable to hold back my tears any longer.

"Lady Zelda," Maddox said gently. "You haven't been entirely honest with me, have you?"

"I have all of those symptoms," I choked, wiping my eyes on my sheets.

"As I thought," he smiled.

"And I'm…" I swallowed, struggling to calm myself. "I've missed my monthly cycle. Twice."

I saw him nod through my peripheral vision. "Then you realize how likely it is that you are with child?"

I nodded, sniffling quietly.

"How long have you known?"

"About seven days now." I turned my head, meeting his gentle gaze. "Thank you… for helping me."

"Of course," he smiled. "But I'm sure it made little difference. He already suspects, which places that child in grave danger. Lady Zelda, you cannot stay here…"

"I know," I whispered, my eyes brimming with fresh tears. "I would have left days ago if I knew how…"

A soft knock interrupted our hushed conversation, and we both turned to see Heather standing in the doorway, her young face filled with amazement.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, inching toward the bed, "I couldn't help but overhear… My Lady," her voice fell to a whisper, "you are... expecting?"

I swallowed and nodded, managing a small smile.

"That's... That's wonderful!" she breathed, her face breaking into a bright smile. "I'm so happy for you..." She took my hand with both of hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, a gesture I returned.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," I said. "I was too afraid..."

"You don't have to apologize, my Lady," she assured me. "I don't blame you."

I lowered my gaze and shook my head. "But I failed," I whispered. "Ashton will surely take precautions. He's going to kill my baby, and I don't know what to do."

I pressed a hand to my mouth, closing my eyes as I fought not to cry.

"No, he will not," Maddox said. "I won't allow it. We'll figure something out, Lady Zelda; you mustn't despair."

Heather nodded, her face eager. "I'll help you in whatever way I can."

I dried the rest of my tears and thanked them, comforted to have friends at my side. But my anxiety remained. Knowing Ashton's relentless control, and his watchful eyes all over the castle, I feared their support would not be enough.


	28. Chapter XXVIII

**AN:** Omigosh, writing this chapter was a nightmare. But I THINK I finally don't hate it.

Guys, I've been depressed about the lack of reviews. Please, please share your thoughts! Are you enjoying the revision so far? Or the story if you never read the first draft? I'm not asking for a novel of a review, just one sentence is better than nothing. If something pops into your head while you're reading, please share it with me! I work really hard on this freakin thing. But PLEASE DON'T message me demanding that I hurry up and write the next chapter or post the old drafts I've taken down - it's very frustrating! The revised chapters will come when I'm finished with them (I try to post at least every two weeks), and I am never going to repost the old drafts.

And please be nice, especially for this chapter which drove me crazy. ; ; That doesn't mean compliments only; I simply ask that you express your opinion kindly and respectfully.

As always, thank you SO much to those who have reviewed - you inspire me to keep wrestling with this large undertaking! =D

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXVIII

"I'm ready, my Lady."

Heather lay face down on her small bed, her back exposed so I could apply medicine to her partly healed wounds. Grabbing the bowl of fresh paste Maddox had mixed for her, I inhaled its surprisingly pleasant herbal scent and dipped my fingers into the thick concoction. Then gently I spread it over the six lashes marring her skin. Heather closed her eyes, reveling in the cooling sensation the medicine brought her. By now I could treat her without suppressing tears of remorse, but my voice still retreated deep within my throat.

When finished, I washed my hands and returned to Heather's bedside to press clean bandages over the paste, mostly so her nightgown would not stick to her back.

"There," I murmured, lightly smoothing the last strip of cloth. "All done."

Then I handed her a nightgown and turned away, giving her privacy as she carefully slipped it over her head.

"Would you like something to read?" I asked her, lingering by the bookshelf.

"No, thank you, I'm too sleepy." Heather had chosen to resume some of her duties as my maid, mostly to escape sheer boredom. She did minimal work, but it spent most of her limited energy.

I sank onto the sofa and breathed a quiet sigh. "I don't much feel like reading either."

"Too much on your mind?"

I nodded. "Usually reading helps with that, but… not tonight, I guess."

Silence filled the room, broken only by the crackling fireplace and Heather shifting into a more comfortable position. I stared down at my hands, which had been stripped of Ashton's engagement ring. I never wore it to bed.

"Can you feel the baby at all?"

I looked up, eyebrows raised. "Feel the baby? Oh no, I can't feel anything yet—nothing but my symptoms, at least." Briefly I rubbed my stomach, furrowing my brow. "I wish I could, though; it would be very comforting."

"Are you hoping for a boy? Nobles always seem to prefer firstborn sons."

I gave an exasperated sigh. "A male firstborn is convenient in noble society, but that's only because of a ridiculous old prejudice. I will love a son or daughter equally, as will Link. We just—"

_BANG—BANG—BANG._

Three muffled crashes cut my sentence short.

"What in the world?" I shot to my feet and rushed to the bedroom doorway.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure. Stay where you are, Heather."

Cautiously I stepped into the room and approached the balcony. My hand reached for the doorknob—

_THUMP. THUMP. THUMP._

I jumped with a gasp, then turned back toward the sitting room.

_Nayru, they move quickly._

The doors burst open before I could reach them, and Captain Felix stormed inside.

"You've been communicating with him; haven't you?" he demanded. "He's the one sending you that damn owl!"

My heart gave a painful lurch. _Kaepora!_

"An owl?" I stammered, struggling to look only mildly surprised.

"Don't play stupid," he spat. "We know about your little scheme. That's the closest he's come this week!"

I forced a laugh, despite my heightened nerves. "Who would send an _owl_ to deliver messages? That's absurd. It probably roosts on my balcony some nights; leave the poor thing alone. You've done nothing but crack my windows, which I expect to be replaced."

"Admit it!" Felix shouted. "I know you've had secret correspondence!"

"You're out of your mind. I don't even have any information to share with him. Ashton keeps me in the dark, and you know it. I'm no help to the Resistance." Bitterness darkened my tone.

The captain narrowed his smoldering gaze but failed to counter my remark.

"If you're lying," he sneered, jabbing his finger in my face, "you will regret it. I'll be watching you."

"You and countless others," I said dryly. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to prepare for bed."

Again he hesitated, still eyeing me with blistering contempt. Then he turned and left the room, barking for his men to follow. I closed the door behind them and ran back into the bedroom, heart pounding with anxiousness.

"My Lady, what are you…"

I crossed the room and threw open the cracked doors, desperately searching the balcony floor…

Nothing. I saw nothing but three arrows—obviously the source of the cracks. Disappointment swallowed my excitement whole.

_He never made it to the balcony._

"No," I whispered, sinking to my knees.

_So close... He came so close..._

"My Lady, what's wrong?" Heather spoke behind me.

I shook my head. "It's nothing. I... I just thought I saw something. Go on back to bed."

Wistfully I looked up toward the cloudy night sky, trying to salvage some scrap of hope.

_Please, _please_ try again. Don't give up on me._

**xxxxxxx**

"_Looking for this?"_

_Ashton stood before me, dangling the Ocarina of Time in my face. Instinctively I grabbed for it, but my fingers swiped empty air._

"_Ah-ah," he grinned, holding it just out of reach. "This is mine now. I can't have you teleporting off to your peasant again now; can I?"_

_Shock jolted my senses._

"_How do you know that?" I whispered._

_He merely smiled._

_"The necromancer told you; didn't he? Ashton, you don't know what this man is capable of—you're just another puppet to him!"_

_He raised his brow. "A puppet, you say?" Slowly he stroked the Ocarina. "Now why would a puppet be granted such power?"_

"_Don't fool yourself. He'll take it all away once he's finished with you. You're just another piece on his chessboard."_

_Ashton sighed and shook his head._

"_Poor little Zelda," he said. "Such a pitiful, useless thing you are. You failed to destroy my staff, you stupidly refused this incredible little item, and you failed to keep your own child alive… again."_

_Horror pricked my spine, chilling my bones._

"…_Again?" I whispered, forgetting to breathe._

"_That's right," he smiled. "Just look at yourself."_

_Heart pounding in my throat, I slowly lowered my gaze… _

_Glistening red pooled at my feet, spreading before my eyes._

_I gave a strangled cry, hitching up my skirts and staggering backward. Red footprints followed, and I felt a familiar warmth trickling slowly down my legs..._

"_No," I choked, gasping for breath. "No, please, please…"_

_I plunged into panicked despair, my screams clashing with Ashton's laughter._

"NOOO!"

.

I woke up screaming, disoriented and terrified. The trickling sensation remained on my thighs, and frantically I threw off the covers—

Nothing.

The sheets were clean, my legs dry. My mind had deceived me.

I pressed a trembling hand to my mouth, muffling a loud, shaky gasp. Tears rolled down my face as I fought not to cry.

"My Lady?"

I looked up to see Heather in the doorway, her worried face illuminated by a candle in her hand. Outside the rain pelted against my windows, accompanied by an angry crack of thunder.

"Did you have another nightmare?" she asked me gently.

I nodded, forcing down my sobs and wiping my eyes.

"Heather," I choked, "I'm so sorry I woke you again."

Lightning flashed as she drew closer, her soft gaze on my face. "Don't be, my Lady, please…"

The bed creaked as she tentatively sank onto its edge. I felt her hand on my arm and took it in mine, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

"I'll be okay," I told her in a steadier voice. "It was just a dream. You go on back to bed."

Slowly she did as I asked, casting me worried looks as she walked away. I watched the glow of her candle leave my peripheral vision before she closed the bedroom door behind her.

I sat still a moment, focusing on my breathing as I willed myself to calm down. Thunder rumbled in the distance, followed by another bright flash. I breathed a tired sigh and sank back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling.

"Stay with me," I whispered, gently caressing my abdomen. "I'll take you far away from here… I won't lose you… I swear it."

**xxxxxxx**

The days dragged by, rainy and dreary as ever. I had yet to show any sign of a miscarriage, but my fear only worsened as the wedding drew nearer. My symptoms continued to prove unpredictable, and I felt the watching eyes of every staff member. Trapped and scared, I found myself growing paranoid.

With Heather's steady recovery, I had resumed accompanying Ashton to court on a regular basis, enduring the gossip and constant talk of our wedding—now less than two weeks away. Just thinking about it pushed me toward the brink of panic. How could I escape the castle in so little time?

Ashton also forced me to join him at breakfast every morning. This was done in the formal dining room, where we sat at opposite ends of a very long table. No one but the servants accompanied us, and they stood off to the side, waiting for Ashton to snap his fingers.

Initially I had planned to refuse anything served to me, but Maddox had reminded me that starving myself wouldn't help anyone, especially the baby. He had reasoned that if Ashton meant to cause a miscarriage, he would most likely do so after the wedding. Such attempts on my child's life could render me ill and ruin his grand plans. His logic had eased my worries some, yet he still gave me cautionary antidotes and kept a close watch on everything the cooks prepared. Despite his efforts, I feared my stress alone would harm the baby. The wedding loomed over my head like an approaching tidal wave, ready to crash down and destroy the feeble remnants of my old life.

I found comfort in my walks though the garden and my daily prayers in the Chapel, but nothing could banish the incessant ache in my chest. I missed Link and Impa so fiercely it sometimes drove me to tears. I felt my condition had severed some control over my emotions—I could not remember the last time I had wept so often. But I grieved only in solitude; no one but Heather saw my tears.

_Tap. Tap._

A knock sounded at my study door—I had come there extra early to write up a document before breakfast. I had taken pleasure in the task, as it had not required Ashton's approval. For once I had exercised some authority, minimal though it was.

"Come in," I called.

The door opened to reveal a young attendant.

"Miss Malon has arrived from Lon Lon Ranch, your Majesty," he informed me. "She awaits you in the throne room."

"Perfect," I smiled, taking my document and rising from my chair. "Please lead me to her."

"Of course, your Majesty."

Because I had decided to leave the castle for good—or until Ashton had been permanently removed—I had two things I needed to accomplish. One, I needed to find a way I could escape _with_ Heather, and two, I needed to move Epona, Link's beloved mare, off the castle grounds. It was the least I could do for him.

Epona only allowed three people on her back—Link, myself, and Malon, daughter of Talon, who owned Lon Lon Ranch. Malon had raised Epona before she and her father gave her to Link for his thirteenth birthday. With Link currently a fugitive and me a prisoner, Malon remained Epona's only hope for happiness. Ashton had forbidden me to go riding, and so her exercise had been limited to the field outside the castle stables. Large as that area was, I knew Epona longed for the freedom of Hyrule Field. I also knew she endured loneliness day after day, as my visits had grown quite limited under Ashton's increasing demands.

And so I began to plan how I would free her. Talon—or Malon—delivered fresh milk to the castle every morning, and I had asked to be notified of their arrival. I had hoped Talon would agree to take Epona back to his ranch, but surely Malon wouldn't leave the poor thing…

The young heiress of Lon Lon stood in the center of the throne room, nervously straightening her clothes. Despite her father's wealth, she dressed humbly in a white blouse and a long lilac skirt. Her only accessories included a yellow shawl—much brighter than my own—and a brown apron. Hair the color of the setting sun flowed down her back. She was a very pretty young woman.

"Good morning, Miss Malon!" I greeted her with a smile. My guards clanked behind me as usual, and I itched to be rid of them.

She whirled around, blue eyes wide.

"Your Majesty," she stammered, dropping her gaze. "Good morning to you." She gave a stiff curtsy, a frown darkening her normally kind expression. "My father is ill, so I've come in his place today. If you have business to discuss with him, he should be back early next week."

My heart sank as I recognized her cold, nervous demeanor.

_How could I be so stupid?_ Of course she had heard the rumors. She knew me as a traitor, weak and deceptive, possibly even cruel. I could only imagine the terrible things she thought of me.

I ached to change her opinion of me. That such a lovely person could despise me for something I wasn't… But I needed her cooperation, not her friendship. I was the Queen; any attempt to win her approval would be both futile and inappropriate.

"That won't be necessary," I replied, using a more solemn tone. "I have a favor I must ask of you."

She bowed her head. "How can I serve your Majesty?" I imagined her speaking through clenched teeth.

"It involves one of my horses, a Clydesdale mare." I dared not mention Epona's true master, as it would only rouse my guards' suspicion.

Her head snapped up, her fearful eyes meeting mine. "Epona?" she whispered.

"That's the one. As you can probably guess, none of my stable workers are able to properly care for her, and I lack the time to do so…" I sighed, wishing she could see my sadness. "I must ask that you take her back to Lon Lon Ranch—at least until she can return here. Of course I will pay you to keep her."

I held her gaze, willing her to see my true intentions. She wore a look of surprise, though it quickly softened with relief.

"Yes, I—I can certainly do that, your Majesty, if that's what you truly want…"

"It is." I smiled gently. "Are you able to take her today?"

"Today?" Malon blinked. "Well, yes, I—I don't see why not, but… don't I need some kind of… paperwork for something like this?"

"Yes, I have prepared it already." I stepped forward and offered her the document. "The details are all there. Have you any objections?"

She read through the terms and shook her head. "None, your Majesty."

"Excellent. My attendant will escort you to the stables."

At this the young man stepped forward and instructed Malon to follow him. She did so without question but cast me one last glance before they left the room. Her eyes had searched me with distrust, not that I blamed her. I could only hope my concern for Epona would lead her to question the rumors.

_Don't fool yourself. She has every reason to hate you._

I sighed quietly, shifting my focus on the success of my mission—and the task that remained.

_Goodbye for now, Epona. May we meet again soon._

**xxxxxxx**

Guinevere Sophia Ragaldi, Ashton's mother, was coming to Hyrule Castle.

His sisters too—all four of them.

He had told me over breakfast that morning. I froze, staring at my fork as it hovered over my plate. Why it had surprised me, I could not say. Of course Ashton's family would attend the wedding, but until that moment I had given them little thought. I hadn't seen them for several years, after all.

_"I expect you to keep them well entertained," _Ashton had told me._ "I want not a word of complaint from any of them."_

_That will be quite impossible_, I had wanted to say. But I swallowed the retort, muttering a general acknowledgment instead. Even across the long dining table I had seen the seriousness in his face. There was only one woman in the entire world Ashton would not dare displease, and that was his mother.

I knew Guinevere all too well from my time spent at Vandelle Castle. She had always found something about me that displeased her—my appearance, my manners, my abilities—or the lack thereof. She had constantly nitpicked, and I had grown to hate her.

At the time I had pitied Ashton for having been raised by such an abhorrent woman. I had offered him a better life, one of love and support, and still he had refused to change. Like his mother, he saw people as little more than means to an end, and I was no exception.

.

I had left breakfast early, desperate to walk the gardens and clear my head before another dreadful visit to court. I had a few days until Guinevere arrived, but that brought me little comfort. Life at the castle was horrid enough with just one Regaldi.

_Away, I need to get away…_

Inevitably my mind wandered to last night's incident, to Kaepora's failed attempt to return the Ocarina. A shadow of hope stirred within me._ Link will send him again. He is always so persistent…_

But what if Kaepora had been killed? Fear swept through me, followed by shame as I realized the selfishness of my wish. How many times had the poor owl risked his life to reach me?

_But is there any other way?_

Tightening my shawl about my shoulders, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, relishing the fresh air. The spring flowers had long gone with the summer breeze, but everywhere I saw green—though, without sunlight, even the foliage seemed faded and sad.

Thankfully my guards had fallen back some, letting me wander within sight. I strolled about the finely trimmed hedges, brushing my fingers over the delicate leaves. Dew still clung from last night's rain, wetting my fingertips.

I could not sit around and await Kaepora's return, not with the wedding less than a fortnight away. I needed another plan, but so far nothing had come to me. I had no magic and only a handful of allies… Just thinking about it left me tired and discouraged.

_Even the Great Fairy left while she could—and that was months ago._

Melancholy seeped into my mind, darkening my thoughts. I wandered in a gloomy haze, listening to the rushing water of a nearby fountain. There I paused, crossing my arms as I stared down into the pool. A familiar face frowned back at me, tired and thin.

One might expect me to curse the loss of my magic, since having it would give me a far greater chance of escape. But having my magic would mean losing my baby; and I wanted a child more than magic. Much more.

Still, it was an inconvenient side effect… and unexpected. I was not accustomed to such vulnerability.

Wearily I sank onto the edge of the fountain, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

_Farore, _I prayed, _I cannot do this alone. Please, lead me back to him. Guide me._

Idly my attention shifted as something in the water had caught my eye—

My heart near stopped.

The air left my lungs.

_Dear gods!_

For there, lying against the inner wall of the fountain floor, was the Ocarina of Time.

I closed my widened eyes and shook my head, thinking I had surely imagined it. _You're hallucinating. _But when I looked again the Ocarina remained.

I drank in its appearance, my heart pounding wildly.

_It's there… It's really there! Kaepora… he must have dropped it when the guards attacked him!_

Then a wave of dizziness hit me, and I gripped the edge of the pool, trembling uncontrollably. I closed my eyes, cursing my weakened nerves.

_Not now, please not now…_

I forced myself to take slow, deep breaths, and thankfully the feeling lessened, though my limbs still shook.

Somehow I needed to retrieve the Ocarina without drawing the guards' attention. It was so close, easily within my reach. I could have laughed with joy. Instead I idly trailed my fingers through the water, trying to appear calm and lost in thought. Sweat beaded my forehead; I felt each second tick by.

Letting my shawl slide down my arm until the tassels brushed the water, I slowly reached deeper into pool… In one swift but subtle movement I snatched the Ocarina and tucked it beneath my other arm. From the guards' perspective, I'd done nothing but cross my arms. I sat there for another agonizing minute before rising to my feet, still tightly wrapped in my shawl. A glance toward the guards told me they hadn't noticed anything unusual, as they had struck up a quiet conversation.

I released a long, shaky breath and started back toward the castle, praying I did not look as anxious as I felt. The guards fell in step behind me, following in silence.

.

By some miracle I managed to walk all the way back to my chambers without interruption, despite my terror of fainting from the extreme tension. My limbs felt stiff, my body chilled; it was a wonder I could move at all. My fingers clutched the Ocarina so tightly I feared it would slip out of my sweaty hand.

Finally, miraculously, I entered my chambers and locked the doors behind me.

"My Lady?" Heather crossed the room with a concerned look. "Is something wrong?"

"Grab your cloak," I said hoarsely, swallowing to wet my throat. "We're leaving. Now."

"Leaving the castle…?"

I grabbed my own cloak, pinning the dark material about my shoulders.

"There's no time to explain," I silenced her. "Please, just do it."

I rushed to my vanity and jerked open a drawer, snatching a slip of paper—the page I had torn from the necromancer's book—and a golden chain. Suspended on that chain were three rings: Link's and my wedding rings and my true engagement ring. Placing the chain around my neck and the page in my pocket, I then tore Ashton's diamond off my finger and flung it away, not caring where it fell.

My eyes flicked to the far wall, and I rushed toward it to remove Link's sword, _Valéshar_, from its holder. Heather watched with confusion as I threw open my wardrobe and stood on tiptoe to retrieve a baldric off the top shelf.

Stress bubbled up inside me with every passing second. _Enough stalling, j__ust_ _leave while you can—quickly!_

I flung the sword over my shoulder, letting it clap against my back, and beckoned Heather. "Come here," I ordered, speaking more harshly than intended. She came without question.

"Wrap your arms around me. Tightly. We're going to teleport."

Her eyes widened. "But how—"

"Please, do as I say. I'll explain when we're safe."

She embraced me, and I held her head to my breast, praying she would not somehow be left behind.

"Hold on," I said again, my voice falling to a whisper. Then I lifted the Ocarina to my lips and somehow managed to play the Minuet of the Forest with trembling fingers. My eyes slammed shut as I clutched Heather to me…

_Please, please carry us both…_

Trees.

The moment I opened my eyes I saw trees. Everywhere full, vibrant green leaves fluttered in the breeze. Never did I find them so beautiful.

Slowly I stepped away from Heather, struggling to absorb the sudden change. Something light and bubbly stirred within me, then steadily rose to the surface—

"_Hah!" _A joyful, almost mad laugh escaped my lungs, ringing through the silence of the Sacred Forest Meadow. More laughter followed as I twirled about, my arms reaching toward the heavens. "Thank the gods; we made it! _We made it!_"

I shouted my praises, thanking the Divine Sisters for answering my prayers. Heather stood by and watched with a goofy grin on her face, unable to leap about like me. Together we laughed and laughed, releasing all our pent up stress and worry.

"Oh, Heather, I didn't hurt your back terribly; did I?" I asked once we had collapsed onto the grass. I lay sprawled on my back while she remained sitting.

"Not really," she smiled. "I'll gladly take a little pain to escape the castle. I'm just so scared I'll wake and find this to be a dream. It all happened so quickly… What on earth just happened?"

I showed her the Ocarina. "This is a sacred heirloom of my family. It's infused with powerful magic that allows the user to teleport, if one knows how to use it."

She gazed upon it with awe. "It's beautiful."

"Yes," I murmured, stroking it with reverence. "It really is."

"Where did it come from?"

I smiled. "My Link has been trying to send it to me. I found it in the gardens—his messenger must have dropped it when the guards attacked him. Oh, Heather," I added, holding the instrument to my chest, "it's nothing short of a miracle."

She beamed. "The Blessed Sisters have been watching over us after all."

"Indeed they have," I sighed, gazing up toward the sky, which remained just as cloudy as that over Castletown. Moisture hung in the thick air; the forest itself seemed to anticipate the coming rain.

"My Lady, what is this place?"

"The Sacred Forest Meadow," I said as I sat up, giving her a wide grin. "Deep within the Lost Woods, and miles and miles away from the castle."

Her eyes widened. "The Lost Woods?"

I nodded. "Don't worry. The Resistance base isn't too far from here."

"Really?"

I nodded, looking toward the stairway leading down into the Woods. "I don't know how to get there, though, and I don't dare try. But I can at least take a look around. You stay here; I'll be right back.

I climbed to my feet and dashed toward the narrow passageway, hurrying down the stairs. I ventured as far into the wooded labyrinth as I could without getting lost, then paused to listen.

"Link?" I called. "Saria?"

No answer. I hadn't expected one, but a part of me had hoped.

"Hello?"

I heard only a low rumble from above, followed by the whisper of raindrops wetting the leaves. I sighed and turned around, hurrying back toward Heather.

"Come on," I called to her. "We can take shelter in the Temple."

We ran through the drizzle and up the makeshift wooden stairs leading into the Temple's antechamber. There we huddled close to each other, blotting out the chill with our cloaks.

"Don't worry," I assured her. "We're safe here. No one can reach us."

"No one?" Worry seeped into her soft voice.

"Well, _almost_ no one. Link could very well come looking for me here, since he should know I might have this Ocarina. Even if he doesn't, this Temple has a caretaker, who is a dear friend of mine. She visits here quite regularly."

Heather listened with interest. "How can either of them find their way through the Lost Woods? Isn't it enchanted?"

I smiled. "Yes, but they are immune to its enchantments. Link spent most of his childhood exploring these woods."

Her hazel eyes widened. "Prince Link lived _here_?"

"Deep within these woods, yes. He was most likely born in Castletown or Kakariko, but his mother fled to this forest to keep him safe from the war. She had suffered an injury and died shortly afterward."

"What about his father?"

"He died in the war, most likely," I murmured. "Link has been an orphan all his life."

"That's so sad," Heather said quietly. "But then who raised him?"

I hesitated, wondering how much I should tell her.

"The guardian of this forest. He sensed Link to be a child of destiny and took him under his personal protection. Link had a… unique childhood, but he left the forest for good at age twelve. That's all I can tell you, I'm afraid."

"So young…" Heather murmured. "Where did he live after he left the forest?"

"He traveled a lot… visited other kingdoms. Sometimes he worked at Lon Lon Ranch for room and board. He did odd jobs to get by, and then he joined the military at age fourteen."

"Is that when you met him?"

"Oh no," I laughed. "We were close friends by then. I met Link when he was only ten years old, after he ventured outside the forest for the first time."

"But how did he manage that?" Heather asked, eyebrows raised. "How does a little forest boy befriend the Princess of Hyrule?"

I leaned back against the wall, smiling softly as I pictured that day in my mind. It always came to me with such clarity.

"He snuck through the castle grounds and found me in the gardens," I murmured. "It was nothing less than fate."

I went on to tell her, in minimal detail, how we had grown closer over the years, advancing from playmates to friends to lovers. Outside the rain continued to pour, but for the first time in months I relished in the sound, letting it soothe me. Knowing I was safe and close to Link allowed me to do so.

I barely managed to finish my tale before Heather and I both fell asleep.

**xxxxxxx**

"My Lady?"

Someone was shaking me, pulling out of my dreamless bliss. I murmured in protest, trying to move away.

"My Lady, your hand is glowing!"

My eyes snapped open to darkness—broken only by the glowing Triforce of Wisdom on the back of my hand.

"Link," I whispered, my heart swelling with joy.

I scrambled to my feet and clamored down the steps, slowing just enough to keep myself from falling. The rain had stopped, but my eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness.

"Link?" I called, reaching the end of the stairs.

"Zelda!"

My breath caught when a small golden glow appeared across the Meadow, mirroring my own.

"Zelda!"

"Link!"

And then he was there, rushing toward me as I stumbled toward him. We met in a fierce embrace, clutching each other as we sank into the wet grass. Quietly I wept against his shoulder, overcome with relief.

"You came," I choked, tightening my arms around his neck. "You came for me…"

"Of course I came," he breathed. "I've been worried sick about you. After Kaepora returned without the Ocarina—oh, Zelda, Zelda…" He kissed my temple and held me close, calming me with every touch.

Then gently he slipped an arm beneath my legs, lifting me up as he rose to his feet. I still clung to his neck, my face buried against his throat. In that moment nothing could have loosened my hold on him.

"And you must be Heather."

I opened my eyes and turned to see her nod. Two men stood beside her, one I recognized as Lieutenant Aiden.

"Yes, my Lord," she murmured shyly.

Link smiled. "You needn't address me so formally. I haven't been a lord in months."

"How shall I address you?"

"My name will do."

"Oh no," she shook her head. "I could never…"

"All right then," he said with another gentler smile. "Most of the Resistance fighters call me General or just Sir. Either will do."

"Okay, Sir." Heather returned his smile.

"Your wounds," he then said, his voice softening. "I imagine they've only partly healed."

Heather stared at him, as did I.

"How... How do you know about that?" she stammered.

"Your fiancé told me. He's been staying at our camp for nearly a week."

"Adam is there?" Heather breathed, her voice strained with emotion. "He's joined the Resistance?"

"Yes, though it was I who initially sought him out," Link replied.

I lay my head against his shoulder, breathing a quiet, weary sigh. _So he did publicly slander me, just as I feared._

"You sought him out...?" Heather echoed, knitting her brow.

"Yes, but I'll let him explain all that. We have much to discuss, but it must wait until tomorrow. Right now you need food and a good long rest."

"Lieutenants," he then addressed his men, "please take Miss Heather's arms, in case she stumbles on this uneven ground."

They each stepped closer to offer their arms. Slowly she accepted, clearly troubled by Link's words.

"Don't worry, Heather," Link said, noticing her expression. "Adam and I had a long talk. He's made some serious mistakes, but he's a good man. And he'll be very happy to see you."

She nodded, brightening at the thought of reuniting with her love. "Thank you, Sir."

He nodded and turned away, leading our small party back toward the Resistance camp. I lifted my head from his shoulder, suddenly embarrassed that only I remained off my feet.

"I can walk, Link—"

"Hush," he murmured in my ear, tightening his hold on me. "I'm not letting you go until we reach the camp."

I sighed and looked over his shoulder, giving Heather a tired but happy smile—one she warmly returned. Then I relaxed against him, listening to the nighttime chatter of nocturnal critters. It was the steady beat of Link's heart, however, that soon lulled me back to sleep.

**xxxxxxx**

Somewhere in the depths of slumber I grew aware of myself being lowered onto a soft, stable surface. The change coaxed me awake, and I murmured softly. A warm, gentle hand smoothed my hair back from my face.

"Sleep now," Link whispered, kissing my forehead. "You're safe here."

I opened my eyes and gazed up at him, lifting my hand to his cheek. He leaned into my touch, turning his head to kiss my palm. My entire being surged with love for him, making me swallow as tears wet my eyes. Concern crossed his features as he misread my feelings.

"What is it?" he murmured. "Sweetheart, what has he done to you?"

I smiled and shook my head, stroking his troubled face.

"Nothing," I whispered. "He's done nothing to me. I escaped before he could."

He studied my face, clearly unconvinced.

"But what made you decide to leave?" he asked. "You were so determined to stay…"

I noticed then, with a tug of guilt, how tired he appeared. Refusing the Ocarina had done nothing to ease his anxiousness.

"I was," I murmured. "But everything changed. I… I had to protect someone."

He furrowed his brow. "Heather?"

"No—well, yes. But someone else too."

"Someone else?" Confusion lined his features.

I took his face in my hands, drawing him closer.

"Not just someone," I whispered, giving him a shy smile. "…I had to protect our baby."

Shock flickered across his face, then softened to sheer amazement.

"You… You're pregnant?" he breathed.

I nodded, my trembling hands sliding down to his chest. I wanted to say more, but my voice retreated as I awaited his response.

"Oh, Zelda…" His stunned face broke into a bright, beautiful smile. "Zelda…"

He pulled me up off the bedroll and into his arms, releasing something between a laugh and a sob. I clung to him as he did to me, searing the moment deep into my memory.

"I—I can't believe it," he stammered, pulling back to meet my gaze. "How… How in the world did we manage…?"

"By some stroke of fate, it seems one night was enough," I said with another shy smile.

Link laughed and took my face in his hands, kissing me ardently.

"Just when I thought fate held only dark days for us," he whispered, his thumbs caressing my cheeks.

"How far along are you?" he then asked, his hands moving to caress my waist. That night feels like ages ago…"

"About nine weeks," I murmured, my fingertips brushing his smile.

"Nine weeks…" He pressed his left hand to my abdomen, his features softening with awe. I lay my hand over his and nuzzled his face, kissing him softly. He returned my affections, gathering me in his arms. I embraced him tightly, fingering the hair at his nape and inhaling his familiar scent.

"I've missed you so much," I choked. "Sometimes I feared I would never see you again…"

"I would never leave you to that misery," he soothed, his warm hand caressing my back. "You've had me worried sick ever since you gave yourself up at the Domain, and then you refused the Ocarina…" He sighed and pulled back a bit, studying me with concern. "How long have you known about the baby?"

"I realized it the day after you sent Kaepora," I answered bitterly.

His arms tightened around me. "Zelda, that was weeks ago—"

"There's more," I said, failing to hide the tremor in my voice. "Ashton knows. He suspected my symptoms, and now that I've fled he—he won't stop until he's found me… Things will only get worse…"

"Shh," Link held me to his chest, calming me. "I won't let anything happen to you. The Resistance is strong and well hidden; Ashton can't reach you here."

He sighed then, tenderly stroking my hair. "You must have been so terrified," he whispered. "You poor thing."

I closed my eyes, snuggling closer to his warmth.

"I was," I murmured. "But it was my fault. I should have taken the Ocarina that first time."

"You had no way of knowing what would come. And you made a reasonable argument, much as I hate to admit it."

"I just felt so guilty for what happened to Heather," I admitted. "I couldn't bring myself to take it."

"Well, I was determined to keep trying until you accepted it."

I smiled softly. "Again your persistence comes to my rescue."

"Always," he replied, kissing the top of my head. "But what about your symptoms? Have you been sick very often? Dizzy? I know you've been tired—have you slept well enough? Eaten well enough?"

"Link!" I laughed, giving him an amused look. "Just how much do you know about any of that?"

"More than you would think," he said with a crooked smile, "though all my knowledge comes from Clef. He spoke of nothing else when he and Siena were expecting Rosie. And he carried on much the same way before Connor was born—always in an adoring tone, of course. Still, Siena would have been mortified."

We shared a laugh at that image.

"But I'm glad for the education," Link murmured, stroking my cheek. "I want to take good care of you. Cleia—Clef's sister—she'll be a major help, but I don't want to rely on her too much. If you need anything, anything at all, you let me know."

"Oh, Link," I sighed, tracing the line of his jaw, "you are all I need."

He kissed my nose. "Oh, but if that were true."

"Are you planning to keep this quiet?"

"I have no intention of imitating Clef," he teased. "But I do want to tell the Resistance Leaders. There's no reason to keep it a secret—I'm not even sure I could," he added with a grin.

A blush crept to my face. "Link, what if they think us irresponsible?"

He laughed. "That would be absurd and unfair. Frankly I don't care what they think; I just need them to be aware, to better protect you. I can tell them while you're still asleep if you'd prefer it…"

"No, no, I—I'm not ashamed or anything, I just…" I trailed off, struggling to find the words. "It's just so unexpected." My blush deepened as Link watched with amused smile. "They might… wonder how we managed it."

Link leaned in closer, his smile softening.

"Well, that's really none of their business, is it?" he murmured, kissing the corner of my mouth.

How he roused such desire in me with the slightest touch, I could not fathom. Fervently I kissed him back, combing my fingers through his hair. He responded eagerly, slipping his arm around my shoulders and lowering me back down onto the bedroll. We kissed again and again, parting only to catch our breath.

Link moved to grab a nearby blanket, but I snatched his collar and pulled his face back to mine, wantonly resuming our previous exchange. He murmured a laugh and moved to my neck, kissing below my jaw and nipping at my throat. I sighed heavily, losing the strength to hold him down.

He sat up, teasing me with a victorious smile as he reached for the blanket. Then he settled down beside me, wrapping me in its surprisingly soft material. I snuggled up against him, tucking my head under his chin.

"Are you comfortable enough?" he asked. "I know it's no feather bed."

I nodded against his chest. "I'd much rather sleep here with you than in the finest bed alone."

He kissed my forehead, running his hand up and down my back. "I'll find you some comfortable clothes in the morning, but I wish I could do better... We have beds at our makeshift infirmary in Goron City—"

"I'm staying right here with you."

He sighed. "In that case I could try to find another bedroll for more padding..."

"Don't you dare." I pulled back to give him a warning look. "I will have no special treatment."

He smiled gently. "But you have a valid reason for it..."

"Well I refuse."

Again he sighed, pulling me closer and stroking the back of my head.

"You stubborn thing," he muttered.

I closed my eyes and smiled, reveling in his touch. In that moment the castle seemed but a distant memory, almost forgotten in the security of his arms.

"I want to know everything you've been through in the morning," he said quietly. "Every detail."

I hesitated, then tried to imagine Link's own experiences.

"Only if you return the favor."

Gently I trailed my fingers along his chest, where his scar remained hidden under his shirt. Link considered my request in silence, which worried me.

"Fair enough," he then sighed. "But we should meet with the Leaders first, just so they aren't waiting around for us."

"All right."

Neither of us spoke again after that. Tired but happy, we found ourselves content to lie there, cocooned in a quiet tranquility we hadn't tasted in months. I knew many more obstacles awaited us, but we had found each other again, and that made all the difference.

The lamplight had barely begun to fade before we both drifted off into a much needed sleep.


	29. Chapter XXIX

AN: Omigosh, I meant to read through this one more time, but I am so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, and I promised I would post it today - well, yesterday, technically, considering it's past midnight here. So here it is. This chapter was SUPER difficult to write, and there may still be some errors or things that don't flow, but if so I'll have to fix those later. I need to take a break from it for a while. Normally I would hold off on posting something I'm unsure about, but it's been so long since the last chapter I've decided to post it anyway. I'm honestly bracing myself; I can no longer recognize if this chapter's any good. T_T

I also want to say THANK YOU sooo much for your _awesome_ response to my last chapter! I don't know if it was my plea for more feedback or the fact that Link and Zelda were finally reunited, but I was blown away by the response. Please keep it up; I love hearing from you guys! :) I won't ever be one of those authors who refuses to post until they get more reviews, but your feedback definitely helps keep me inspired. :)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXIX

"What do you mean she's _out of reach_?"

"We've searched the castle grounds and all of Castletown, my Lord; she's nowhere to be found—"

"I expect you to upturn every scum-ridden rock in this kingdom, _Felix_. I don't care how tired the soldiers are; you get out there and find her. Don't show your face again until you have her!"

Vasilis sighed, watching as the captain dropped a bow and left the room, his blood red cape swirling behind him.

The queen's sudden disappearance had caused quite the uproar. From what the minister had gathered, she had breakfasted with Ashton, as she did every morning, and left to walk the gardens before returning to her chambers. Her guards had knocked against her doors a short time later, demanding her attendance at court, but received no reply. They had forced their way inside to find the rooms empty. Even her maid had vanished.

Investigating her chambers had left little direction as to how she had escaped. She had taken her cloak, and her engagement ring had been found on the floor beneath a chair, discarded.

"Someone helped her," Ashton snarled, pacing the room for the umpteenth time. "Some vile traitor helped her escape. She's been plotting with them this whole time…"

_He looks terrible_, Vasilis observed with disgust. His red hair had come loose from its tail and appeared thoroughly disheveled after Ashton had repeatedly clutched his head in fury. Rage and weariness plagued his sharp features, and his pale complexion gave him an ill appearance.

"What are you looking at?" Ashton snapped. "Say something; make yourself useful for once!"

Vasilis shifted and cleared his throat. "I agree that she likely had help, perhaps from the outside."

Ashton paused, deep in troubled thought. "No, it must have been from the inside, from someone here in the castle. I want the Council interrogated further."

"My Lord, you have guards haunting their every move—"

"And I have seen the extent of their incompetence! Do not question my orders, Vasilis; I want every staff member interrogated until I have answers."

He cast the minister a cold, lingering glare before resuming his pacing.

"Someone is hiding something; I'd bet my life on it. This castle is crawling with filthy Hylian traitors, including that dim-witted physician—"

As though on cue, a knock sounded at the door.

"I have Maddox as you ordered, my Lord," a muffled voice spoke through the double doors.

"Then why the hell are you standing there?"

The door opened, and Maddox stumbled inside, his hands bound behind his back. A Vandelian forced him to knees and snatched his hair, forcing his gaze up toward Ashton.

"You called, my Lord?" Maddox inquired dryly.

"Silence, traitor," Ashton snapped. "I'd watch my tongue, were I in your position."

"I had nothing to do with the queen's disappearance."

"And why should I believe you?" Ashton regarded the elder man with narrowed eyes. "You were most… _sympathetic_ toward her."

"How could I have helped her? She obviously needed magic to escape this fortress, and I haven't a trace of the Gift."

"You didn't need it, of course. You had the freedom to come and go. You brought her some magical device, one capable of teleportation! Confess it!"

"That's ridiculous," Maddox retorted, maintaining an impressively calm demeanor. "I don't know anything about magic. I've been available to the queen for a long time. If she had wanted my assistance, she would have sought it out months ago."

"Yes," Ashton murmured, turning away toward the glowing fireplace as he pondered aloud. "Yes, why would she flee now? Something must have changed, something…"

Then suddenly his whole body tensed, and he whirled around to face Maddox with widened eyes. Vasilis found himself holding his breath. _What now…_

"She…" Ashton's strangled words died as his fury rendered him momentarily speechless. "She's _pregnant_… isn't she?"

He managed only a sharp whisper, and a dreadful chill swept down Vasilis' spine.

"Pregnant?" he spoke up, stepping out of the shadows to meet Ashton's gaze. "You… You defiled her?"

Ashton gave a rough, bitter laugh. "Oh, I meant to," he sneered. "I meant to ruin her. But no, you blathering idiot, I have not touched her."

Vasilis furrowed his brow. "Then… Then it's impossible."

"Quite impossible," Maddox added, "as I've already told you—"

"Shut your mouth!" Ashton shouted, jabbing his finger toward the physician. "I know it's true. I suspected it before, and I know it now. I know what that bastard finally accomplished—and so do you!"

By now his voice had reached an abnormally high pitch, and in that moment he appeared as mad as the castle staff believed him to be.

"Would you calm yourself?" Vasilis hissed. "The entire castle will hear this tantrum."

"Don't you dare speak to me like that," Ashton spat. "I could have your head if I wished it."

The minister pressed his lips together and stepped away, knowing the king could—and would—carry out his threat with a simple command.

"Guards!"

Vasilis jumped, as did the Vandelians.

"Have this old fool thrown in the dungeons," the king ordered, gesturing toward Maddox. "Give him nothing until I permit it."

Two guards rushed forward to snatch the physician and shoved him out of Ashton's chambers.

"As for the rest of you," the king added, pointing to the remaining guards. "I want every inch of this forsaken kingdom searched; do you hear me? I want every available soldier combing the land. Do what you must to find her—show no mercy until she is returned to me!"

The guards bowed and hurried out of the room, eager to escape his wrath.

"Show no mercy, you say?" Vasilis dared to speak once the door had closed. "Exactly what do you mean by that?"

Ashton glared at him, then walked off into his bedroom. Dread swelled in Vasilis' chest. He knew precisely what Ashton wanted.

_That horrid, cursed staff… I can sense it's aura even here._

"You use that, and you'll make enemies of the entire kingdom—your kingdom now," Vasilis called after him.

Ashton ignored him, disappearing into his chambers. The minister sighed and followed, watching from the doorway as the king opened his tall golden case and removed the seemingly ordinary staff. Slowly he ran his fingers along its smooth exterior, an eerie smile tugging at his lips.

"I will do what I must," he murmured. "I have a deadline now, Vasilis; I'll unleash hell on them if I must. Whoever is hiding her will be forced from the shadows. The traitors will come forward on their own, simply to end the nightmare."

He turned to Vasilis then, the staff clutched tightly in his hand.

"No one sleeps until she is found."

**xxxxxxx**

Warmth and darkness met my senses as I woke, and for a moment I struggled to recall my location. Seconds later my memory caught up to me, and I sighed with relief, snuggling closer to Link's warmth. He slept on, his arm still curled around my waist. I tried to fall back asleep but soon found it quite impossible for one simple reason:

I was starving. And that meant the baby was hungry too.

Gently I removed Link's arm and sat up, gazing down at him with reluctance. He looked so peaceful; I hated to wake him. Any other time I would have endured the hunger, but I would take no chances with the baby. I cursed myself for not eating something before we'd fallen asleep.

"Link," I murmured, knowing it wouldn't take much to wake him. Gently I stroked his hair away from his eyes, hoping to ease him out of slumber. "Link—"

He woke with a start.

"Zelda?" he stammered, immediately sitting up. "What? What is it?"

"Shh, it's okay," I soothed. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you…" Tenderly I caressed his shoulder, feeling him sag with relief.

"Don't be sorry," he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "It's just that people don't usually wake me unless it's something urgent..." He looked at me then, worry lining his features. "Are you okay? Do you need something?"

"Well, I…" I hesitated, giving him a sheepish smile. "Link, I'm starving. Is there any way I could have something to eat?"

"You're starving?" His expression shifted to panic. "When did you last eat?"

"Yesterday... at breakfast."

"_Breakfast?" _he nearly shouted. "That's almost an entire day!" Quickly he threw off the blanket and stood to pull on his boots. "Gods, Zelda, why didn't you say something?"

"I honestly didn't feel hungry at the time… I just didn't think about it… with everything that's happened…"

But Link was hardly listening. The lantern sparked to life with a wave of his hand, and quickly he grabbed a satchel off the table. I watched him rummage through it before pulling out three bundles of cloth.

"Here's some bread, dried meat, and cheese," he said, thrusting them into my hands. "Take as much as you want; I'll go make you something warm."

He opened the tent flap as he spoke, and I cringed at the darkness outside. Dawn remained at least an hour away.

"Link, I'm sorry…"

"Don't be sorry," he said in a gentler tone. "I'll be right back." Then he left, vanishing behind the flap.

I pulled out the bread and tore off a piece, biting into it hungrily. I did the same with the cheese. Both were a little dry, but I hardly expected more, considering where I was. The meat, however, tasted smoked and deliciously seasoned.

I forced myself to eat slowly, wanting to leave room for whatever else Link brought. Eventually he ducked back into the tent, his right hand cradling a bowl nestled in cloth. In the crook of his left arm he clutched a small bundle of clothes.

"Here," he said, setting down his lantern and handing me the bowl of what appeared to be porridge. "I know it's not much, but I wasn't sure what would agree with you."

"This will do just fine," I smiled up at him. "Thank you."

He shook his head and sat down across from me, setting the clothes aside. "I should have brought you some food hours ago," he muttered.

"Link, that was hardly the first thing on our minds, and I was too tired to feel any hunger."

"Well, I'm still not off to a very good start," he said, taking the leftover bread, meat, and cheese and wrapping them in their individual cloths.

"Start of what?" I blew at the steaming bowl, pleased to smell cinnamon wafting from it.

"Taking care of you. You and the baby."

I stirred my spoon with a smile. "I certainly hope I'm capable of getting my own food. I would have, had I known where it's stored."

"I don't want you to worry about anything, not even food," he insisted. "Caring for you is the least I can do."

I sighed. "That's sweet of you, Link, but you have enough on your plate as it is. The Resistance needs you; I won't get in the way."

"Hey," Link reached for my chin, bringing my gaze to his. "I may lead this Resistance, but I have a duty to you and our child. I won't put that aside for any reason."

I searched his face, feeling a pleasant tingling in my chest. He leaned in, giving me a brief but firm kiss.

"Now eat," he said. "Before it goes cold."

I obliged and took a spoonful of the porridge, raising my brow when a sweet taste filled my mouth.

"Not bad," I told him. "You have cinnamon here? And milk?"

"Brown sugar too," he smiled. "We have some nicer things like spices and cream."

"How do you store it?"

"We keep it cold with red ice—Ruto was happy to donate some blocks, back before the Domain was attacked. The food here is always pretty good, thanks to our talented cooks. The problem is quantity, not quality."

"You have trouble collecting enough food?" I paused to look at him with concern.

Link sighed. "I'm sorry, of course you wouldn't know."

My heart sank. "Know what?"

"About the drought," he said quietly. "It's slowly creeping across the land, affecting mainly the more remote areas. Crops won't grow, livestock are dying, wells are drying up… People are hungry. Many have taken refuge here because they can no longer survive in their farms or smaller villages."

I stared at him in horror. "But the constant clouds… and the rain?"

"The land doesn't seem to retain it. You know the prophesies, Zelda—this will continue until Ashton is dethroned."

_As it did during the Imprisoning War._

"Oh, no, no…" I set my bowl aside, feeling suddenly sick. "I—I can't believe this," I whispered. "I thought we had more time…"

Immediately Link was there, rubbing my arms and shushing me.

"Don't worry," he soothed. "We have an entire division that makes sure people have enough food and water. No one will starve under our watch."

"But it will only get worse… Soon monsters will roam the land at night, disease will spread—"

"None of that will happen anytime soon. And I'm here this time; I'm not off sleeping in the Chamber of Sages." He touched my cheek, giving me a sad smile. "I intend to fix this long before the baby is born. I just need you to have faith in me… Can you do that?"

I hesitated, holding his cobalt gaze. I had absolute faith in him. Link was the Hero of Time, the one who could make things right again.

_And yet…_

For the Hero of Time, ending the Imprisoning War had been a relatively simple matter—wake the Sages and vanquish Ganondorf. The tasks themselves had pushed him to his limits, but his path had never been unclear—I myself had guided him. Link's enemies had been monsters, driven by dark magic and slain without consequence.

Things were not so simple this time. Ashton had an entire kingdom behind him, not to mention the Alliance. Our enemies were not monsters but people like ourselves—men with families, with souls. Ashton's death would likely bring further war, and, depending on the circumstances, Link could appear no better than the tyrant he had killed. Blood was not the answer.

Politics aside, Link also bore a terrible and mysterious scar, a burden he never carried during the Imprisoning War… If my suspicions proved correct, the necromancer posed a far greater threat than Ashton, especially since he had sent Link to his knees with a mere thought…

Countless questions crowded my mind, but I forced them into silence. Link looked so determined, so eager to ease my worries.

"Of course I do," I whispered, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "Always. You know that."

He gave a small smile, one I thought looked forced, and tucked some hair behind my ear.

"I know it all sounds overwhelming," he murmured. "We'll discuss everything later, when we meet with the others. But for now," he reached for my bowl and placed it back in my hands, "you need to eat."

I looked at the bowl, then back to him. "I will if you lie down."

Link gave me a quizzical look.

"You look exhausted," I told him, "and I feel terrible for waking you. I want you to rest before dawn."

"You can wake me whenever you—"

I pressed my fingers to his lips. "I know, darling; you don't need to remind me. I solemnly swear to bother you with my most trivial needs. Now go to sleep."

Link hesitated, then leaned over to kiss my cheek. "As my queen commands."

By then the porridge had lost most of its warmth, but I ate in silence as Link settled back under the covers. I barely noticed it anyway, being too far lost in my troubled thoughts.

Once finished, I placed the empty bowl on the small table near the lantern. _Valéshar_ lay nearby, as well as the pile of clothes Link had brought for me. Curiously I unfolded them, observing them in the light.

He had found me a faded blue dress, one I hoped fit much more comfortably than the gown I currently wore. Quickly I stripped down to my undergarments, and pulled on the dress. It had been tailored to fit a slender woman like myself, but the material did not restrict my movements as my gown had. The wide neckline and quarter-sleeves would help me keep cool in the summer weather.

Glad to be out of my fancier attire, I crawled back onto my bedroll next to Link, who now lay asleep on his side. Carefully I slipped under covers, trying not to disturb him. He shifted, breathing a sigh as he resumed his previous position with an arm curled around my waist.

I lay awake a while longer, listening to his slow, rhythmic breathing until I knew no more.

**xxxxxxx**

A few hours later I opened my eyes to see an outline of trees through the canvas ceiling. The muffled sounds of conversation drifted from outside, and the faint smell of bacon tickled my nose. I inhaled deeply and turned over to find Link seated at the small table, studying a sheet of paper. He lifted his gaze, meeting mine over the page.

"You're awake," he smiled, lowering the sheet.

"Hmph," I returned his smile and sat up, ruffling my tousled hair. "Since when do you wake before me?"

"It's been ages since I last slept in," he replied. "These days I rise with the sun." He stood and came toward me, dressed in a loose shirt he had belted like a tunic and trousers tucked into tall boots—all of it black.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, kneeling down beside me and caressing my cheek. "Any nausea?"

I leaned into his touch. "None so far."

"Good." He kissed me gently. "Now, before I forget to ask again: can I interest you in some breakfast?"

I accepted his invitation, and, seated on the ground in our tent, the two of us shared a typical meal of bacon, eggs, and toast—all of which, Link told me, had been prepared in Goron City.

"We have three main rules here at the camp," he explained. "One, stay within the barriers I've established. Two, never leave without an official escort, even if traveling to Goron City. And three, no campfires allowed—which is why we prepare all of the food in Goron City. No pipes either—anything that produces smoke is prohibited. Naturally these rules have been placed to help ensure everyone's safety and the secrecy of our camp."

The residents of the camp, Link also told me, were a combination of soldiers and civilians. Most of them had been driven by their homes by Vandelians or the drought. Everyone pitched in one way or another. Some cooked; some did laundry; some sewed or repaired weapons and armor.

"Everyone puts their skills to use—except perhaps the children," Link added with a sad smile.

The soldiers came and went, carrying out missions Link and the other leaders assigned to them. These missions included defending villagers from Vandelians, delivering food and medical attention, recruiting more members, tracking down known traitors, capturing Vandelian soldiers for imprisonment in the Gerudo Fortress, or even smuggling food and supplies over the border from neighboring kingdoms.

Link also asked me countless questions about my own experiences back at the castle, and I had answered them as truthfully as I could. I chose to omit some information, including my attempt to destroy the staff. I had brushed over the engagement party, declining to tell him about Ashton's aggressive advances. I found no desire to worry Link while so many troubles already crowded his thoughts.

Once we had finished, Link stood and reached for _Valéshar_, which lay on the table beside the lantern. Carefully he picked it up, admiring the scabbard as he traced its elegant patterns.

"I had a new sheath made for you," I told him. "Using my father's plans, of course. I'm sorry I didn't return it sooner."

He shook his head, giving me a gentle smile. "You didn't have to bring it at all. This was very thoughtful of you." He unsheathed it then, testing the familiar weight in both hands.

I watched him with a tug of pride. "How does it feel?"

"Feels perfect, especially after all the other swords I've had to use in the meantime."

"It was the least I could do. I also had Epona taken off the castle grounds. She's much happier at Lon Lon Ranch, I'm sure."

Link sheathed the blade and set it down, giving me a startled look. "Epona's at Lon Lon?"

I nodded, and he strode forward to grab my face and kiss me.

"You are an angel; you know that?"

I scoffed, blushing gently. "Hardly. I'm just trying to make up for all the grief I've caused you."

"I started that trail of grief, Zelda. You're just another victim of it."

"Link, that's just—"

But he silenced me with another kiss, ending our argument before it began.

.

Finally, after I had braided back my disheveled hair and Link had strapped _Valéshar_ to his belt, the two of us left our tent to head for Goron City.

The area appeared denser than I had expected; I saw only a handful of tents among the thick trees. They seemed much smaller than the tent I shared with Link, serving them only as a place to sleep.

Groups of people had clustered here and there, most of them chatting. One woman hung her laundry on a clothesline. Another sat on an upturned bucket, mending a tunic.

Eager to see more of the camp, I took a few steps forward—only to pause when a slight tingling sensation swept over me, one I quickly recognized.

"Link," I said slowly, "why is there… a barrier around our tent?"

"You sensed that, huh," he muttered. "Don't worry about it; I'll explain later."

"Hm, avoiding the question." I turned to face him, crossing my arms and raising my brow. "I think you can explain now."

He sighed heavily. "All right. Like everyone else in this camp, I occasionally have nightmares. Sometimes those nightmares make me scream in my sleep. One time it woke some people in the camp. They didn't know it was me, but I knew it couldn't happen again. So I created a barrier to keep the tent soundproof; that's all. Now come on."

He reached for my arm, but I pulled away, giving him a concerned look.

"Hold on just a minute," I said gently. "What kind of dreams?"

"Just dreams, Zelda, ordinary nightmares. Nothing prophetic about them."

"I'm sure they're anything but ordinary. How often do you have these dreams?"

He held my gaze, clearly unwilling to discuss it. "Often enough. If it becomes a problem I'll get you a separate tent."

"Link, don't be absurd; you know that's not what I mean." I reached for his hand, lacing my fingers with his. "What's haunting you?"

"Nothing is haunting me. Seriously, Zelda, it isn't worth such concern."

He started walking, pulling me along toward the heart of the camp.

"Have they anything to do with your time in the desert?" I asked him softly. "You said the necromancer planted false memories in your mind. Is that what you see?"

Link kept silent for a moment. "Not exactly. The dreams don't often make sense; they're just one horrid scene after the other. Those memories… They're much more convincing, like an alternate reality. They are... difficult to forget."

Empathy stirred in my heart, and gently I squeezed his hand.

"New memories will bury them," I murmured, stroking his knuckles. "The lies will fade with time."

"I know," he gave me a soft smile. "Maybe sooner than later, now that I have you back."

.

Around us the camp residents carried on with their business, though many paused to watch us walk by. With a tug of sadness I watched a mother comb her daughter's long, blond hair. The little girl waited patiently, talking to a little ragdoll in her lap.

"Link," I murmured, forming the question I'd long ached to know, "where is Impa?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I wish I could tell you. She was furious when I told her what we learned back in the desert—about the necromancer possibly using Sheikan spells against me. She made it her personal mission to go learn more about him and my scar. I have no idea where that's led her. She comes back to check on me every now and then—always empty handed but no less determined. She'll definitely return once she hears you've left the castle."

I nodded solemnly. "I hope so. I miss her so much…"

Link squeezed my hand. "I know. I miss her too. I always felt better having her around. I'm sorry she ran off because of me."

"Link, she left to _help_ you, and I'm glad for that. She loves you like a son, you know."

"I do know," he murmured.

"My Lady!"

I turned my head, and a smile lit my face when I saw Heather walking hurriedly toward us, Adam in tow.

"Hello, Heather!" I greeted her. "How are you this fine morning?"

Dressed in a simple brown dress, she looked happier and better rested than I could remember seeing her. Her dark curly hair flowed freely about her shoulders, and her hazel eyes practically shone with delight.

"Oh, I feel wonderful, now that I'm back with Adam," she grinned.

Then she looked up at Link, her expression softening with seriousness. "Sir, I want to thank you for being so patient and understanding with him. Adam tends to be rather… rash at times, especially when it comes to me."

"As his record demonstrates," Link smiled, crossing his arms. "But I recognize a desperate man when I see one. He just needed a little direction."

Adam shifted uncomfortably, his face reddening. "Your Majesty, I'm very sorry for what I did to you," he said. "I just… I didn't know what to do. I wasn't thinking straight, like Heather says."

"I was prepared for it, Adam," I said gently. "I did deceive you after all."

"I should have known better," he sighed. "But I kept hearing Heather's screams, and then I couldn't think much at all."

Heather touched his arm, smiling sadly.

"Mr. Carter and I had a long conversation about all that," Link said. "He is forbidden to leave this camp without my permission, but he's been very helpful here, especially with the cooking."

I looked at Adam in surprise. "Really?"

"Oh, yes," Heather beamed. "Miss Cleia says got a real talent for it. I've encouraged him to become a culinary apprentice—once this is all over, of course," she added quietly.

I nodded. "I'm happy for you. We should always think about the future, especially during a time like this."

I felt Link's hand on my back, caressing me.

"We should keep moving," he said gently. "The other leaders are expecting us. You two will have to catch up later, I'm afraid."

I nodded and took Heather's hands in mine. "I'll see you later then?"

"I'll be here," she smiled.

.

Link and I continued on through the camp, walking in silence for a time. I observed the residents we passed by, nodding to those who bid us good morning.

"They seem so content," I murmured, "considering their confinement here…"

"They have free range within the boundaries of this camp," Link said. "And they can visit Goron City, as long as they have a chaperone. But yes, I imagine it can be quite dull here at times, but many of these people were previously living in hunger or fear. Boredom is something of a luxury for them."

"Well, I don't care how boring it becomes; it's a haven compared to the castle."

Link smiled sadly. "Well, then you should fit in quite nicely."

"Oh, I doubt that. I fear only Heather and Cleia will have the courage to actually talk to me. The rest probably blame me for everything," I added quietly, remembering the way Link's men had treated me in Kakariko.

"Don't be silly," he soothed. "They know you're a victim too."

I shrugged, but inwardly I doubted his words. Not every resident had watched us go by with a smile, and I had felt their eyes on my back.

Quickly I pushed the feeling away, wanting to dismiss it as paranoia. Whatever they thought of me, I was there to stay—I'd know the truth soon enough.

**xxxxxxx**

As far as anyone knew, Goron City, the largest of the Goron settlements scattered across Hyrule, could be reached only by foot, as it lay nestled in the side of Death Mountain, a short distance north of Kakariko Village. No one knew of the portal between Goron City and the Lost Woods—save the Resistance fighters. Link had marked a path between the camp and the portal for their frequent use.

"Is… the Deku Tree okay with this?" I murmured as he led me through the Woods. "This portal isn't supposed to be common knowledge…"

Link gave me a dry look. "Of course I've discussed it with him, Zelda. He isn't worried about keeping secrecy. The Deku Tree controls these portals; no one passes through them unless he allows it. Darunia also protects it from his side—the portal is well hidden.

"Also, everyone may or may not be under the impression that it's a temporary portal," he added with a crooked smile. "And that the Guardian of this forest will expel it once we no longer need it."

I snorted. "I'm sure that raised more questions than it answered."

"Oh, yes," Link sighed, feigning guilt. "I told many lies that day."

Eventually we reached a stone archway which seemingly tunneled into the side of a cliff. Passing beneath it, however, Link and I emerged directly at the center of Goron City. At first I saw nothing but darkness, though I could hear the muffled but familiar sounds of the city.

Link formed a small flame in his palm, illuminating the cramped space, and immediately I saw a switch on the wall. Link lifted his other hand to press it, and slowly the wall facing the portal began to slide sideways. He and I stepped forward, squinting while our eyes adjusted to the torchlight.

Despite being an enormous, cave-like dwelling hollowed out of a dormant volcano, Goron City was surprisingly bright and lively. Multiple circular cliffs divided the city into ring-like levels, each bearing walls covered in vibrant wall paintings. Between these paintings were tunnels and stairways, many of which led into the private caverns of Goron families. The bottom level, however, belonged entirely to Darunia, Chief of the Gorons and secretly the Sage of Fire.

"Sister!" a loud, rumbling voice called out. I turned to see Darunia himself rushing toward me, his large, bulky arms outstretched. Before I could manage a greeting, the Goron swept me up off the ground and clutched me in a fierce embrace.

As leader of the Goron tribe, Darunia was widely respected, often to the point of fear. His appearance alone could frighten any Hylian. While he was not the largest of the Gorons, Darunia still towered above most, and his bulging muscles made him the image of strength. All Gorons bore a striking resemblance to boulders, having bulky, rounded bodies covered in tough, earthy brown skin. Like Zoras, they had little use for clothing, and most wore little more than a loincloth. Darunia was no exception, though as Chief he often wore ceremonial sashes and beads to reflect his status. His dark eyes, also common to all Gorons, shone like two polished stones, and his wild spiked hair aided his intimidating appearance. Many called him the "wild" Darunia, and the name suited him well.

Beneath his imposing exterior, however, lay a fiercely loyal heart. Darunia had risked his life to save the Gorons during the Imprisoning War, having gone into the heart of Death Mountain Crater to stop the dragon Volvagia from devouring his tribe. Link had worked with him to free the Gorons and slay the dragon, wielding the Gorons' legendary Megaton Hammer. Together they had claimed victory and restored peace to Goron City.

Years before that Link had slain the King Dodongo, an enormous reptilian beast that had lurked within Dodongo's Cavern. The Gorons depended on that cavern, as they mined a wide variety of precious materials from its walls, but the Dodongo had chased them out. Link had only been a child at the time, but his bravery in facing the great beast and his compassion for the Gorons had impressed Darunia so much he declared Link his Sworn Brother. The two remained close ever since.

My status as the Princess of Hyrule had made me Darunia's Sworn Sister, but we also shared a friendship worthy of the title.

"The others had told me you had come," Darunia exclaimed as he hugged me close, "but I couldn't believe them! It has been too long—"

"Gently, Darunia," Link said, placing a hand on his massive arm. "Be very gentle with her."

Quickly the Goron placed me back onto the ground, studying me with a furrowed brow.

"Gentle?" he asked. "Are you not well, Sister? Did I hurt you?"

"No, Darunia, don't worry," I assured him. "Link's just become very protective of me—more so than usual, I mean."

"I have every reason to be protective of you," Link defended. "And Darunia tends to forget his own strength."

The Goron laughed and crossed his arms, gazing at me fondly. "Sister Zelda has never feared me crushing her before. Has something changed?"

"Completely," I said, my voice softening. "I..." I glanced at Link, who smiled.

"He should know before the others," he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

"Know what?" Darunia furrowed his brow.

I looked up at him, pride smothering my initial shyness.

"Come springtime," I said, slipping my arm around Link's waist, "if all goes well, Link and I will have a child of our own."

"A child?" the Goron exclaimed, his dark eyes wide with shock. "Now? After all this time?"

"Well, not _now, _but_—_"

"Praise the gods!" Darunia pulled us to him, one per arm, and clutched us in another fierce embrace.

"The child must call me Uncle! He—or she—will be brave like you, Brother, and wise like you, Sister! This is truly a sign from the gods—we must celebrate!"

"Actually, Darunia," Link said, his voice strained by the Goron's iron grip. "We were hoping to keep this as quiet as possible for now, just as a precaution."

"But we'll gladly take a rain check for that celebration," I added with a smile.

The Goron gave a low rumble of disappointment. Though he would never admit it, Darunia was quite fond of celebrations.

"Hm… I suppose that will be best. Then for now all I can offer is my congratulations..."

He gave us another tight squeeze, proclaiming more blessings for our child. Then finally he released us, drying his dark eyes.

"Come," he said with a grin. "I assume you will at least tell the others?"

He led us down to the bottom level and into his conference chamber, where the Resistance leaders awaited us. Above us echoed the familiar sounds of Goron City—the rumble of Gorons rolling about (their quicker, though riskier method of travel), the low murmurs of conversation, and even some faint explosions outside the city—the Gorons specialized in creating bombs and other explosives.

The conference chamber, which had been brightly lit with torches, featured a simple, circular space, as most Goron rooms did. Red banners featuring the Goron crest hung from the walls—the only decor to be seen. A large round table molded from a great slab of rock rose from the center of the room, circled by smaller, circular rocks which served as stools. Six of them had been taken, and I recognized the faces of Cleia, Clef's sister, Ian, my former Head of the Royal Guard, and four of Link's lieutenants: Theodus, Aiden, Derrick, and Simon.

They stood as we entered the room, sitting only when I took my seat beside Darunia. The seat to my right remained empty, as Link preferred to remain standing.

"Welcome," he said, spreading his hands in greeting. "And thank you for coming. It's good to see you all safe and well."

The others offered similar greetings, though their eyes quickly settled upon me. I struggled to meet their gazes, feeling suddenly insecure. I had yet to learn how they felt about my presence there.

As though sensing my nervousness, Link moved to stand behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Before we discuss her Majesty's presence here," he addressed the leaders, "I want to make some things clear. First, let me assure you that she arrived here by teleportation, directly from her chambers to these Woods. No one could possibly have followed her here. No one even saw her leave."

A few people visibly relaxed, while others betrayed no reaction.

"Naturally there is a reason she chose to leave the castle at this time. Ashton has become a threat to her—and I'm not referring to the wedding," he added in a darker tone. "She fled not for her own sake, but to protect the life of another."

Some gave signs of mild confusion, but everyone waited for him to elaborate.

"That life," he said, his voice softening, "is the unborn heir to Hyrule's throne."

Several gasps followed, as all but Darunia expressed their complete shock.

"She is with child?" Derrick burst out. "Are you the father?"

My insecurities vanished with a flare of anger. "Of course he is!" I snapped. "How dare you?"

Link gently caressed my shoulders, easing my frustration.

"Yes, I am the father," he confirmed.

"I—I can hardly believe it!" Cleia beamed, clasping her hands together. "What a blessing this is!"

"A blessing indeed," Ian agreed, a smile lighting his weary face. "Congratulations to the both of you!"

The others loudly echoed his words, and their enthusiasm brought a blush to my face. A few stunned though wordless exchanges between the lieutenants made me suspect their inward reaction: _When did they find the opportunity?_

"What timing!" Darunia laughed. "The gods have a sense of humor."

"A twofold blessing," Aiden grinned. "Ashton's grand plans are foiled again."

"Does Ashton know?" Theodus inquired, his brow furrowed with worry.

"Yes, I believe so," I answered solemnly. "He suspected before I escaped, and my actions will likely confirm those suspicions."

"He threatened to cause a miscarriage," Link added. "Zelda fled at the first opportunity."

"My gods," Ian breathed. "He really is a monster."

"Yes, and he'll surely do everything in his power to get her back," Theodus added. "Considering the power contained in his staff, that's a frightening thought indeed."

I lowered my gaze, wondering if I should mention my attempt to destroy the staff. The fact that I had failed still stung, but at least they would know I had tried…

"She's safe with us," Link said. "As long as she stays within the camp, or here on Darunia's watch, Ashton cannot reach her. Yes, he will try to draw her out; that much is inevitable."

"Then we should strike at the heart of all this—Ashton himself!" Derrick exclaimed, pounding his fist against the table.

"We aren't strong enough, Derrick; you know that," Theodus said. "Aside from controlling both the remnants of our own army and his Vandelian army, Ashton has an undead army ready at his command, remember?"

"So we should focus on destroying the staff—the General cut through the first one easily enough—"

"Ashton wanted me to destroy that staff," Link reminded him. "It was a trap; one I chose to risk. I doubt his current staff will be so easy to destroy."

"It isn't," I said quietly.

Everyone's attention shifted to me, and I felt Link's hands tense on my shoulders.

"How do you know?" Aiden asked.

"Because I tried to destroy it."

I nearly sensed Link's alarm. His hands left my shoulders as he slid into the empty seat beside me.

"When was this?" He spoke in a low but controlled tone.

I forced myself to meet his piercing gaze.

"Months ago," I assured him. "Not long before Ashton found out about you."

"What happened?" Lieutenant Simon asked, his brow raised. The others looked equally interested. "How did you get close enough to try?"

"Oh, getting into Ashton's chambers was easy enough," I replied. "I told him I wished to negotiate the terms of our marriage. I proposed this during the evening, after he had retired for the day. He actually summoned me directly to his chambers."

Some shook their heads or muttered about Ashton's stupidity. Link, however, listened in cold silence.

"The staff was locked inside a golden case—one he's had thoroughly enchanted. As soon as I saw it I blasted the case with my strongest magic." I shook my head and sighed. "It wasn't enough. The staff remains intact."

"How is that possible?" Darunia frowned. "You are the most powerful sorceress in all of Hyrule."

"My magic has weakened considerably over the past few months," I answered quietly. "Even then, my power was not at full capacity."

"Could this be related to your condition?" Cleia asked.

"Maybe," I sighed. "And maybe not. For the sake of caution I've stopped using magic entirely. That's why I couldn't leave the castle until an opportunity presented itself."

Link lay his hand on my arm, regaining my attention.

"What happened after you tried to destroy the staff?" he asked me.

I hesitated, searching for the most delicate response. "Ashton had me imprisoned."

Obviously Link had feared such an answer, but outwardly he remained calm. "In the dungeons?"

I nodded. "In a high-security cell."

"How long?"

"A week. He released me only to sign the annulment. He threatened to keep me in my cell if I refused."

Link's eyes bore into mine, though his tense expression softened. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What good would that have done?" I said gently. "Nothing came of it."

Had we been alone, Link surely would have pressed the issue, but the others quickly drew our attention.

"If her Majesty's magic wasn't enough, how can we hope to destroy it?" Derrick exclaimed.

"Destroying the staff will not solve everything," Darunia replied. "Ashton is not our only enemy. The necromancer who gave him that staff; he is the true enemy. Ashton has nothing without his help."

"I wouldn't say that," Theodus argued. "Our army is scattered and divided, and there aren't enough of us to fight the Vandelians. Ashton depended on this necromancer in the beginning, but he no longer needs that power. He controls our people through fear."

"Anyway, we can't just sneak in and break his staff," Aiden added. "The Vandelians would overpower us. We have to take back the entire castle."

"Or force his surrender," Derrick growled.

"Ashton knows we can't kill him," Ian said. "He's the only leverage we have against Vandelius—he would never surrender."

A moment of silence fell, broken by Ian.

"What say you, General?" he said.

All eyes turned to Link, who took a deep breath and quietly released it.

"I say none of you are wrong," he replied. "The staff must be destroyed, but that alone will not win this war. We need to take over the castle and hold it long enough to negotiate with Vandelius—by that I mean their permanent retreat in exchange for Ashton's life.

"The reports tell us Ashton currently controls about half of our military. The rest have fled, whether out of fear or loyalty I don't know. If we could regain our soldiers, be they those serving Ashton or those who have fled, that might be enough to storm the castle. Ashton has not brought his entire army with him, and his soldiers are scattered about Hyrule. The castle is not impenetrable, had we enough men."

"But wouldn't Ashton's council simply send the rest of their military to regain control?" Theodus asked.

"Yes," Link replied. "Which is why we would need to divide our forces between offense and defense. Obviously we need more men to accomplish this. As I've said, recruiting is currently our most important mission."

"What of the necromancer?" Darunia inquired. "He could interfere again."

Fear fluttered in my chest, and I wondered how much the leaders knew about the necromancer. _Probably next to nothing, considering Link's secrecy about the whole thing._

"Oh, I'm certain he will," Link said, his tone darkening. "Ashton may be our immediate threat, but the necromancer is potentially the greater threat. He has his own agenda, and he's meddling in forbidden arts to achieve his goal. Obviously he was displeased with the Hyrule we knew. He will be dealt with, one way or another.

"But right now we need to focus on helping our people. Ashton will undoubtedly do whatever he must to find Zelda, and we must be ready to counter his actions as best we can."

The leaders nodded, awaiting his orders.

"Darunia," Link's gaze settled on the Goron Chief. "Can I ask you to ensure Zelda's safety?"

Darunia nodded, his expression stern. "Of course, Brother."

"Thank you. The rest of you will ride out with me. We cannot wait for reports this time."

He paused, his gaze shifting to his four lieutenants.

"We leave tomorrow night."

**xxxxxxx  
**

Excitement settled upon the camp as darkness fell. Unbeknownst to me, the cooks had arranged a feast to celebrate my arrival, and initially the idea had troubled me.

"Link, you told me you have limited supplies, you can't possibly afford a feast—"

"Don't worry about it," he assured me. "The cooks won't serve more than we can spare. A 'celebration' really means nothing more than the addition of ale."

He had brought me to the heart of the camp, a large clearing amidst the trees where the Resistance gathered every night for supper and social activities. At the center of everything I saw tables laden with food and, sure enough, a barrel of ale. The cook's helpers had already begun filling tin cups and passing them around. One younger girl offered cups to Link and me, but we politely refused.

"The leaders and I never drink," Link told me. "Not a drop of alcohol."

"Not even to celebrate?" I teased. "Make merry?"

He shook his head, giving me a sad smile. "Technically we're always on duty, even when we sleep. That means no alcohol, and no exceptions. It isn't worth the risk. They can drink all they want when this war is over."

The gathering itself proved mesmerizing. Countless people had come together, soldiers and civilians alike. Because no campfires were allowed, most carried their own lanterns. Everywhere soft globes of light bobbed around like forest fairies, illuminating faces of every kind. Energetic chatter charged the air, broken by the occasional burst of laughter.

Link led me through the crowd with a hand on my back, guiding me toward the edge of the clearing. Cleia had already shoved plates of food into our hands, which we held up near our heads to avoid any collisions. We carried no lantern of our own, choosing instead to enjoy our meal in the shadows. Most people were too busy to notice us, but many did pause to smile, nod, or offer some other awkward greeting. I looked for Heather and Adam but failed to find them amidst the lively crowd.

The noise proved too loud for any real conversation, but I felt content to sit and watch. Sometime after everyone had settled down and enjoyed their share of the feast, several people suddenly stood up and approached the tables together. I could see they wore colorful, glittering costumes and bore a variety of instruments. Curiously I watched as they placed stools on the ground and sat down to tune their instruments. The crowd, which had gone very quiet, suddenly burst into cheers and applause.

"Our minstrels," Link said when the noise had died down. "They play every night. Tell stories too."

"Every night?"

He nodded. "They volunteered to do so. They play purely to distract these people from their troubles. I was more than happy allow it."

Children emerged from the audience, each grasping a glowing lantern. Quickly they placed them about the musicians, creating a ring of light, and then settled down to listen.

The minstrels began with a lighthearted drinking song, one every Hylian knew. Even I couldn't help but softly sing along, though Link chose to listen in silence.

Something stirred within me as I watched the joyful faces of our people, and my voice faded as a lump rose in my throat. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen something so heartwarming, so beautiful…

The touch of Link's finger stroking my cheek brought me out of my reverie. I turned to look at him, and he leaned closer to kiss my cheek.

"You look sad," he whispered in my ear.

I shook my head. "This camp, this sanctuary you've created for our people, it's absolutely wonderful."

He smiled, though it faded quickly.

"Everyone has helped make this a sanctuary. But it can't last much longer. We can't carry on like this, certainly not through the winter."

"Then we'll find another way," I soothed, suppressing the anxiety his words brought. "Let's not worry about that just yet. At least for tonight."

The song came to an end, and a hush fell over the crowd as the musicians began a slower melody. They strummed their harps and guitars, and the three women sang of a vagabond who traveled the world in search of his lost love.

I lay my head against Link's shoulder, taking his hand and lacing my fingers with his.

"I may have to kiss you," I murmured, spreading my fingers against his. "Quite indecently."

He gave a quiet laugh. "It's far too crowded for that. Shall we sneak off somewhere more private?"

"You read my mind."

He rose to his feet and helped me to mine, leading me away from the crowd and deeper into the forest. I followed him blindly, letting him guide me through the darkness and up a gentle slope. He kept a tight grasp on my hand, steadying me whenever I stumbled on a root. Finally we settled beneath a tall and very thick tree which grew from a hill overlooking the clearing.

What had been a beautiful sight below proved just as much so from above. Every lantern glittered through the treetops, shining like a cluster of golden stars. The music drifted upward, caressing our ears with surprising clarity.

Link settled down behind me, slipping his arms around my waist as I rested against him. I meant to relax, but a thought suddenly struck me.

"Link?" I murmured.

"Hm?"

"If you intend to discuss my attempt to destroy the staff, please don't. I would never have done that if I had known about the baby, but I'm fine now, the baby is safe, and what's done is done. Can we consider the matter closed?"

Link hesitated, then sighed quietly. "Fair enough, but I'm still mad at you for doing it."

"I couldn't sit around and ignore the opportunity. You know me better than that." Regret crept into my thoughts, dampening my spirit. "I wanted so much to succeed."

He swept my hair over one shoulder, pressing a kiss to my neck. "It might not have mattered. Destroying the staff is no longer our main objective."

"It would have helped."

Link sighed and rested his chin on my shoulder. "Do you regret becoming pregnant?" he murmured, trailing his fingertips along my belly.

I furrowed my brow. "Did you honestly just waste time, breath, thought, and energy on that question?"

"Only to prove a point," he replied, amusement lightening his tone. "If you regret your weaker magic, you regret your condition. Having that power back would mean having no baby—take your pick."

I sighed, fighting the smile which tugged at my lips. "We don't know why I can't use my magic."

"What else could it be?"

I fell silent, losing the will to argue when Link nuzzled the slope of my neck.

"I think my so-called wisdom is rubbing off on you."

But he had stopped listening, and I felt his fingers brush the gold chain I still wore around my neck.

"What's this?"

"Oh…" I scooted around to face him, pulling the necklace out from under my collar and showing him the rings.

"I feared Ashton would take them, so I kept them on this chain. I wore them whenever I could."

He nodded, saddening as he fingered his mother's ring. "I understand."

I swallowed, heart quickening as I met his gaze. "Link… I know we aren't legally married right now, and I still feel terrible about that, but…"

He shook his head. "I know, Zelda. You don't have to explain yourself." His gaze fell back to the rings, which now rested in his hand. "May I?"

I lifted my hair so he could unclasp the chain. Gently he took my two rings and slipped them onto the appropriate fingers—his mother's on my right and my wedding ring on my left. Then he brought my hands to his lips to kiss both rings.

"Link," I said softly, my heart wrung with guilt. "We need to talk about the annulment."

"There's nothing more to say," he murmured. "You did what you had to do; I know that now."

"And I know you're afraid. You think yourself an outcast, and you fear that document will keep us apart."

He hesitated, glancing downward as he fingered his own ring, which remained in his palm.

"I won't give you up so easily," he whispered, his fierce blue eyes meeting mine. "I've fought for you most of my life, and I won't stop unless it kills me."

His passionate tone brought a familiar warmth to my core, but his words only saddened me.

_Oh, Link._ _Always fighting, even for love._

Firmly I grasped his shoulders, holding his troubled gaze

"You don't need to fight for me, Link. Fight for our people, fight for yourself, but don't fight for me. You have more than enough battles to face; leave this one to me. I will fight for our marriage—I will fight for _you_."

Link studied me in silence, and his skeptical expression saddened me all the more. Of course he doubted my words. How many times had I promised to never do the very thing I had done?

"I know that's difficult for you to believe," I murmured, taking his hand in mine, "considering it's always been you fighting for me. But you've already won that battle, Link. You've proven your worth. I pledged myself to you, and no matter what happens, no matter who tries to keep us apart, I will stay at your side, legally or not."

Gently I slipped the ring onto his finger, my eyes boring into his.

"When this darkness ends—and it will end—our life will return to the way it was, and everything will be so much better…"

Link's eyes fell to the ring on his finger, but his face held only sadness.

"What is it?" I murmured, stroking his cheek. "Tell me…"

"It's just so hard to picture," he said softly. "Having our old life back…"

"I know," I sighed. "But I won't go back without you."

"Don't be silly. Once Ashton's gone you have to go back, with or without me."

I frowned. "Well, then I'll just have to make sure you're with me."

He sighed and sat back against the tree. "Come here."

I gladly settled into his arms, resting my cheek against his shoulder.

"I need you to promise you won't leave the camp," he murmured, running his fingers through my long hair. "Not for any reason."

"Hm, are you forbidding me like you forbade Adam Carter?" I teased. "My Lord General?"

"You know I can't," he answered quietly. "I'm asking you."

I pulled away to meet his serious gaze. "I won't leave," I assured him. "Why would I? Where would I go?"

He traced the curve of my cheek. "There are a lot of troubled people out there. You might—no, you _will_ be tempted to go help them. I need you to ignore that temptation."

I sighed, my cheerfulness dissolving at that thought. "I suppose you won't always be here to stop me."

Link shook his head slowly. "I wish I could be."

I lay my head against his shoulder, snuggling back into my previous position. "I wish I could go with you," I said softly. "I'm the cause of Ashton's wrath; I should be doing something about it."

"You are not the cause," he replied firmly. "No one but Ashton is to blame. You had no choice but to flee."

Neither of us spoke for a while. Another livelier tune drifted up from below, weaving in and out of our thoughts.

"You know," I murmured. "When I said we could try again that night in the Fortress I never dreamed it would actually happen."

I looked up to see him smile. "You and I both," he said. "All odds were against us. It happened this way for a reason."

"I'm sure it did." I returned his smile. "For a good reason, do you think?"

He hesitated for half a moment, then stroked my hair. "I certainly hope so."

"Well, I know so," I whispered, nuzzling his cheek. He turned his head to kiss me, and I eagerly returned his affections.

I knew a difficult road lay ahead of us, laden with the unknown, but in that rare, tranquil moment I felt nothing could stand in our way.

That confidence would soon leave me, however, once I realized the extent of my ignorance.


	30. Chapter XXX

AN: Much shorter chapter this time, but I hope you like it! Thank you sooo much for the wonderful reviews - please maintain communication! ;)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXX

"…_you awake, General…? Sir, I'm sorry to… urgent matter."_

Somewhere between slumber and wakefulness, I vaguely felt something leave my side, taking with it a great deal of warmth. I furrowed my brow and stirred, opening my eyes to see Link's shadowy figure slip out of the dark tent. Concerned, I shook myself awake and left my bedroll to pull on my boots and follow.

Outside the trees stood black and mysterious beneath a midnight sky. Everywhere fireflies danced amidst the shadows, but if not for Theodus' lantern I might not have seen him at all.

"…The Vandelians are terrorizing them," he was telling Link, who stood listening with his arms crossed. "They've taken this to a whole new level, no doubt on Ashton's orders. They need more men if they have any hope of controlling the situation."

Dread weighed on my heart as I awaited Link's response. I knew what he would say.

"Gather a company of our best soldiers," he instructed Theodus. "And ready the horses—I will join you shortly."

The lieutenant saluted him and gave me a quick nod before hurrying off. Link then ushered me back into the tent with a hand on my back.

"I'm sorry about this," he said, reaching for his belt and strapping it around his waist. "We're needed sooner than I anticipated."

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked him softly.

"You can allow yourself plenty of rest and minimal stress," he replied, pulling on his gloves.

"Link…"

"And stay here. No matter what awful things you hear, you stay in this camp."

I sighed, watching as he knelt down to check the contents of his satchel.

"I mean aside from that."

"You're doing enough by simply watching your health. I don't want you to worry about anything."

Link closed the satchel and reached for me, still on his knees. Tenderly he kissed my belly, then rose to his feet with a tired sigh. I looked up, meeting his sad gaze as he took my face in his gloved hands.

"Cleia and the others will take good care of you here," he said. "I wouldn't leave you unless I was certain of that."

"I know," I murmured, searching his face. "Link, I wish you would take the Ocarina."

He and I had debated the issue just a few hours ago, before going to sleep. I had insisted he take it, since he would be out putting himself in harm's way. But he had refused, claiming he would not use it. The Ocarina was safer with me, he had argued, and I safer with it. I thought it a weak argument, but I couldn't force him to take it. I had considered slipping the instrument into his satchel without his consent, but he habitually checked its contents and would surely find it.

"We went through that already," Link said gently. "It's better here with you."

He kissed my forehead, then twice on my mouth before turning away to grab his cloak. Pinning the dark material in place, he reached for _Valéshar_ and slipped the baldric over his head, adjusting it across his chest. I handed him the satchel, and he cast me a suspicious glance before rummaging through it again.

"It's not in there, Link," I said with a sigh. "I'm not _that_ sneaky."

"Oh, yes you are, Sheik," he muttered, slinging the satchel over his shoulder and checking his pockets. I might have laughed, if not for the weight on my chest.

"Now remember your promise," Link said as we left the tent. "No leaving the camp."

"I won't."

He paused, lifting a hand so his palm faced the tent. "I'm dispelling the barrier. Can't have you alone and muted in there."

Then he turned to me, his worried expression mirroring mine. Anxiously we embraced, clutching each other close as we struggled to say our goodbyes.

"I love you so much," Link whispered. "I hate being away from you… especially now."

I dug my fingers into his cloak, failing to find my voice. Then his lips found mine, and desperately I kissed him back. His hands slid from my back to my hips, loosening his hold until he broke away entirely. I hardened my heart, letting him take two steps before lunging to grab his hand.

"Link," I struggled to say. "Please… Please be safe…"

He turned to give me a sad smile.

"I will," he soothed, sweeping his thumb across my knuckles. "And I'll return as soon as I can."

Again he turned away, his gloved hand lingering in mine until our fingers finally slipped apart. I watched him vanish into the darkened woods, _Valéshar_ on his back.

_Farore, please bring him back to me._

**xxxxxxx**

Several days passed and still Link did not return. Worse, no word concerning Resistance activity had reached us. Protected by spells and secrecy, the camp stood isolated from the world. News arrived only from soldiers, and so far none had returned.

I slept in most mornings, sometimes well into the afternoon. I did so only because Cleia refused to wake me, and my condition drained my energy. Cleia had insisted I sleep in the Goron City infirmary, where I could lie in an actual bed, and I agreed to do so only until Link returned. In truth I appreciated the change. Goron City stayed much warmer at night, and the bed felt far more comfortable than bedrolls—especially when I remained bedridden with nausea.

I distracted myself during the day, helping wherever I could. There was plenty to do—clothes to wash and mend, armor and weapons to clean, food to sort and prepare. Many hands made light work, and thus everyone worked only certain hours of the day.

A wide variety of books had been donated for everyone's use, as well as other things like card decks and chess sets. Rarely did they sit unused, especially the books. People constantly passed their favorites around. Heather, being her usual sweet and thoughtful self, always lent me her books before reading them herself. No one dared approach me for anything, not even to offer a book. I knew my status would simply intimidate one out of someone's hands, so I avoided them as well. I had yet to experience any unpleasant encounters with the residents, but everywhere I felt their watchful, suspicious eyes.

"It's your imagination, dear," Cleia assured me with a wave of her hand. "You shouldn't worry so much—it won't do you or your little one any good."

Like her brother, Cleia was a jovial character, prone to laughter and quick to diffuse any negativity with her usual cheerfulness. As for her vocation, Cleia worked as a midwife, which obviously came as a major advantage to me. Having served in this position most of her life, Cleia approached even the most stressful situation with a clear head and a positive attitude. She did not hover about me, but she did make sure I received the best care available—both of which I much appreciated.

Cleia shared her younger brother's strong physique, though her lack of height made her a rather stocky woman. A mess of dark curls covered her head, which she tried to gather in a tangled bun. Like Clef, she had three children of her own—all of them boys—but they had already entered their adolescent years. She and her husband, John, lived in Kakariko, where he worked as a physician.

Despite her optimism, I suspected Cleia's buoyancy sometimes lacked sincerity. Her involvement with the Resistance had separated her from her family, and she had no way of knowing when she would see them again. Ashton knew of her friendship with Link and me, and thus the Vandelians kept her family under very close watch. I feared Clef's family, particularly Siena, suffered a similar fate.

"I haven't heard anything hostile about you, my Lady," Heather offered, looking up from the tunic she was mending.

"They know you're associated with me, Heather," I told her quietly. "No one would say anything you could overhear."

"Certainly not," Cleia murmured. "None of them would dare upset you or Link—out of respect, of course… and perhaps a little fear," she added with a chuckle.

I smiled gently and returned to my own mending, allowing the subject to pass. Still my doubts remained; even Cleia's confidence gave me little reassurance.

.

By nightfall I normally fell right asleep. The minstrels still performed every evening, and I sometimes stayed up to listen, but my weariness often forced me to retire early. Some nights I would lie awake even after the performance had ended and the camp had gone quiet. I would worry about Link, wishing I could sense him. But all I could do was pray for him—and for those he fought to defend.

Then one day, news from the outside world finally reached the camp.

Heather and I had been helping Cleia hang laundry to dry when two soldiers suddenly appeared, loudly inquiring whether Link had returned.

"Only Darunia and myself remain here," Cleia hurried over to say, referring to the Resistance leaders. "Things are busier than ever out there, I'm sure."

"Why do you seek my husband?" I asked, coming to stand at Cleia's side.

"Your Majesty." Both soldiers greeted me with a bow. "There has been an unusual attack on Aboda Village."

Aboda was a relatively small, remote village near the borderlands. As a major part of the lumber industry, it had become well known for its excellent carpenters and talented wood carvers.

"Half the homes have been burned," the guard informed us, "but that isn't why we've come. Vandelians were not responsible for this attack. The villagers described what sounded like the same creatures we fought in battle all those months ago."

Realization seeped in like a damp chill.

_Stalfos... and ReDeads?_

"Ashton's undead army?" Cleia breathed.

"Most likely. Many of the villagers have fallen into a deep, cursed sleep, just as our soldiers did after that battle."

"The Black Sleep," I murmured.

The soldier nodded. "Only the general can wake them, so we've split up to locate him."

I hesitated, aware of my heart pounding against my ribs.

_I can save them too…_

But doing so would mean breaking yet another promise to Link, not to mention placing myself and our child in danger.

"How many?" I whispered.

"Pardon, your Majesty?"

"How many have fallen?"

"Twenty at least. Men, women, children—even the village Elder. The villagers are terrified."

I closed my eyes as dread churned my stomach, making me sick. _Those poor families…_

By now a small crowd had gathered, watching me with cold, expectant eyes. They knew I had rescued fallen soldiers from the Black Sleep all those months ago.

I swallowed, mainly to wet my throat. "There is no need to find my husband," I told the soldiers, keeping my voice steady. "I can help these people."

The soldiers glanced at each other, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

"But the general said you cannot leave the camp—"

"The general does not rule me, as I do not rule him."

"But… your magic…"

"Waking a victim of the Black Sleep requires no magic but powerful telepathy, which I still have."

They both fell silent, seemingly out of excuses.

"How many soldiers have come with you two?" I asked them.

"Three more wait with the horses, your Majesty."

"Good. You and the others will escort me to Aboda. Allow me a few minutes to prepare, and I will join you."

The soldiers gave their consent, and hastily I turned away, forcing one foot in front of the other. Immediately Heather and Cleia fell in step beside me.

"You cannot do this!" Cleia pleaded. "It is far too dangerous!"

"I will not leave those people to die." I spoke calmly, despite the doubt swirling within me.

"But the general can help them, my Lady," Heather added, clutching my arm. "Please don't go…"

"Link has more than enough to worry about. And it could take them days to find him. I won't put those people's lives at risk when my help is available."

"Lady Zelda, please!" Cleia moved to stand before me, halting me in my path. "Link will be furious if you leave—you are deliberately breaking your promise to him! Think of your child!"

"I am, Cleia!" My frustration escaped in a harsh tone, strained with emotion. "I am also thinking of the children who lay dying as we speak! And the mothers and fathers, the husbands and wives! I have tasted that loss, and if I can spare them such grief, I will."

With that I strode past her, grasping my determination. Deep down I heard a voice vehemently objecting to my decision, but the memory of my devastation over Link's supposed death all those months ago still haunted me. How could I stand by and allow so many to suffer that same pain?

Quickly I entered my tent and changed into my second outfit—a burgundy tunic over a brown shirt and leggings. Buckling the belt around my waist, I then strapped a dagger to it and reached for my cloak. I was poorly armed, but I carried something better than a weapon, something that would help ensure my safe return.

I grabbed my satchel and reached inside, pulling out a small bundle of cloth. Gently I lifted the thick material aside to reveal the glossy, pale blue surface of the Ocarina of Time. The mere sight of the instrument calmed me. It had saved me before; surely it would do so again.

Placing it back into the satchel, I then left the tent to collect food and water for my journey. I had barely taken ten steps, however, before the large, angry figure of Darunia suddenly came storming through the trees. He all but marched toward me, shoving shrubs aside in a huff. Cleia hurriedly followed, her face troubled and her hair more awry than ever.

"Sister Zelda, I will not allow you to go!"

The Goron's loud rumbling voice echoed through the trees, causing some nearby birds to take flight. Our audience had nearly doubled in size, though they stayed well out of Darunia's way.

"Don't try to stop me, Darunia," I replied, striding past him without a single glance. I could not waver; I would not cave.

"What did I tell you?" Cleia exclaimed, slightly breathless. "Please, talk some sense into her!"

The Goron moved to block my path, stopping me midstep, and placed his huge hands on my shoulders.

"Sister, I told Brother Link I would protect you, and I will keep my promise."

"Link also knows he cannot keep me here against my will," I said quietly. "And neither can you."

"You told him you would stay," he argued. "You promised!"

I swallowed, crushing a flare of guilt. "I did not think something like this would happen so soon. My people need me, Darunia; I will not ignore them."

"But you will ignore Brother Link's wishes? Betray his trust—again?"

Again I hesitated, caught in a storm of uncertainty. Then I turned to Heather, who had been trailing behind me.

"Heather, please go fetch me some food and water for my journey," I told her gently. "Two days' worth should be enough."

She hesitated, glancing at Cleia and Darunia and then back to me.

"Yes, my Lady," she mumbled before obediently rushing off.

"Darunia." I turned back to the Goron, lowering my voice for only his and Cleia's ears. "I have given you my reasons. I'm sorry you disagree, but you cannot keep me here. I make my own decisions; even Link knows that. Yes, he will be furious with me, and I do regret hurting him. But I have weighed the consequences, and letting these people die would be the greater sin."

Darunia studied me in stony silence, struggling to find an argument. "…But what about the child?" he said. "This is too dangerous, Sister."

"I realize the danger. I will have five soldiers protecting me, and I'm taking the Ocarina with me. If anything goes wrong I can easily escape. And I will flee if necessary—at the slightest risk I will teleport directly to the Forest Temple."

Darunia's frown did not fade, but he lifted his gaze as Heather came running back with my supplies. I turned to see Adam following close behind her.

"Here, my Lady," she said, slightly short of breath as she handed me a wrapped bundle of food. "I hope it's enough."

Adam wordlessly handed me a bottle of water, and I placed the supplies in my satchel, taking a moment to examine the food.

"This should do fine, thank you."

Darunia placed his bulky hand on my arm, regaining my attention. "I don't like this, Sister."

"There's nothing likeable about it," I said quietly. "But it must be done. Now, my Brother, I appreciate your concern, but can you please let me go without making another scene?"

Reluctantly he, Cleia, Heather, and Adam followed as the two guards led us away from the camp and toward the restricted area where the horses were kept. Due to their high demand among the Resistance fighters, few horses were kept there at a time, but one extra horse almost always remained available—for emergencies, Link had told me. I was glad for it, since having no horse meant leaving one soldier behind. I needed all the protection I could get.

"You just bring yourself back here safe and sound; you hear?" Cleia said, still visibly flustered by decision.

"I will," I assured them as I mounted a chocolate brown mare.

Heather gazed up at me, her pretty face lined with worry. "I'll be praying for your safe return," she told me. "And for those poor families."

Adam reached for her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers, and gratefully she squeezed back.

"I will not rest until you return," Darunia said, his harsh features still drawn with disapproval.

Inwardly I smiled, knowing he would sleep just fine. If there was one thing every Goron could do without trouble, it was sleep.

"Don't worry about me," I said, giving them a gentle smile. "I'll be all right. I shouldn't be gone more than a few days."

Not wanting to delay any longer, I bid them farewell and gave the lead soldier his cue to go. He urged his horse onward, leading us further away from the camp, and I did not look back.

**xxxxxxx**

We continued our journey through the forest, wanting to stay hidden amidst the trees, though we had left the Lost Woods far behind us. The Deku Tree's magic had long since faded, leaving us vulnerable to other travelers. We rode in slow but steady silence, always on the lookout, for the forest lay dangerously close to the borderline touching Vandelius.

Night fell without incident, and under the cloak of darkness we ventured out of the trees onto Hyrule Field. We rode at top speed, never pausing to stretch our stiff muscles.

My unpredictable bouts of nausea had yet to assult me, but I struggled to ignore my usual fatigue. Embarassing as it was, I knew I would need to stop and rest a while, more for the baby's sake than mine. To my relief, the soldiers had no intention of keeping me awake the entire night. They voluntarily halted our progress for a few hours' rest before dawn, though I was the only one who slept.

.

We arrived at Aboda by mid-morning the next day. The village had barely entered our sights before three figures came rushing toward us on horseback. We soon recognized them as Resistance fighters, much to my relief.

"What brings you here, soldiers?" one of them called out—a man with raven hair and ice blue eyes. "The general is here; your assistance can be better used elsewhere."

The men had not yet recognized me, since my dark hood concealed much of my face, so I urged my horse forward to address them.

"They have come here on my orders, soldier," I said, lifting my chin so they could better see beneath my hood. The four of them blanched in disbelief.

"Your Majesty," the soldier who had spoken bowed his head, as did the others. "Forgive me, I did not recognize you—"

"Think nothing of it, soldier. You say my husband is here?"

Knowing Link was safe brought me great joy, but I dreaded his reaction to my coming. I had not expected to meet him face to face.

"Yes, your Majesty, we arrived only a short time before you. The general is in the village, helping those under the Black Sleep."

"I see. Waking them is no easy task; I will go assist him. Two of you may come with me; the rest of you keep watch over the village."

"Yes, your Majesty."

With that hurriedly rode past them, not bothering to see whether anyone had followed. Aboda's humble buildings quickly came into focus, and within moments I had reached the village entrance. My heart sank as I passed between two charred posts—the remnants of their welcoming archway.

Nearly all of the buildings had been burned, some to a worse degree than others. Most had blackened walls, and some had lost an entire section. Others had been reduced to skeletal remains, and some even lay in piles of rubble. Here and there I saw villagers clearing away the unsalvageable materials. Some had already begun hammering away at the homes still standing.

Our arrival had quickly drawn the villagers' attention, few though there were. I knew many of them had fallen under the Black Sleep, and I imagined most remained with their families, praying for a loved one to wake.

I kept my hood up as I dismounted and walked through the village, wanting to keep my identity as secret as possible. I didn't know how people would react to my presence there, now that Ashton's men hunted me, and the thought unnerved me. Several faces appeared in the windows of less damaged houses, most of them women and children. All of them looked tired and afraid.

I could see Aboda had been a charming place before the attack. Window boxes lined nearly every home, though the plants had long since died. Bright doors and shutters adorned many houses, the only remaining color after all the gardens had withered. An atmosphere similar to that of a ghost town had settled upon the village, and it brought me great sadness.

The village Elder's house, which also functioned as an office building, stood at the center of the village, and was easily the tallest and grandest of them all. Fortunately it remained relatively undamaged, having lost only a section of the eastern wing. Assuming the victims had been housed there, I continued on toward it, aware of the two soldiers behind me.

Then suddenly the door opened to reveal a thin, elderly woman wearing a guarded expression. Her white hair had been pulled back into a tight bun, creating a stark contrast to her black mourning dress.

"Who are you?" she asked, drawing her black shawl about her shoulders. "Why have you come?"

"This is her Majesty, Queen Zelda," the soldier to my right spoke. "You will show her respect."

The woman's eyes widened, and quickly she dropped a curtsy, her eyes fixed on the ground.

"Forgive me, your Majesty; I did not recognize you. You honor us with your presence." Her dull tone lacked sincerity, which concerned me. "I am Nadine, wife of the village Elder."

"Greetings, Nadine," I said gently. "Word has reached me of the people who lie in a cursed slumber, and I have come to help. I have also been informed that my husband is here."

"Yes," she murmured, "but he only just arrived. He hasn't been in there long."

"Then I will assist him. Please, lead me to him and the others."

"Of course, your Majesty."

The soldiers waited outside while Nadine led me into the house, where I could finally lower my hood.

Despite its size, the house's interior remained as quaint as the rest of the village. Of course Aboda's finest furniture occupied the space—chairs, tables, shelves, all of them polished and carved with an artistic flair. And everywhere I looked I saw little wooden sculptures. Obviously the Elder's home served as an exhibit of sorts for visitors.

"We moved the patients into the main hall," Nadine told me. "There simply isn't room for them anywhere else. My husband, as you may have heard, is among them…"

Before I could reply, one of the double doors leading into the hall creaked open, and out stepped none other than Link himself.


	31. Chapter XXXI

AN: Finished this before 2013, yay! Thank you so much for your kind reviews; I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXXI

I meant to speak first, but my voice died when I noticed how pale and shaken he appeared. Dark shadows had formed under his eyes, and he seemed thinner, almost ill.

_What has happened to you?_

Then I saw the anger in his face, controlled though it was. In five quick steps he reached my side and grasped my elbow.

"I need to speak with you." He addressed me in a calm but cold tone, his eyes holding mine. "Now."

Up close I saw more than anger behind his intense gaze, and his disappointment struck harder than any rage.

"Excuse us," I said to Nadine, letting Link drag me off down the adjoining hallway.

He pulled me into one of the bedrooms, locked the door, and whirled around to face me.

"What the hell are you thinking?" he snapped. "Coming out here? Have you lost your mind?"

"Link, I had to—"

"You deliberately put yourself _and_ our child in danger!" he shouted over me. "Nothing you say can justify this, not for me."

He turned away then, raking his fingers through his hair as he struggled to calm himself. I steeled myself against his words—I had expected such a reaction.

"I could not leave those people to die," I said quietly, wanting to keep the argument from escalating any further.

"You promised me you would stay!" he went on shouting. "And I believed you—I _trusted_ you! Does your word mean anything to me anymore?"

"I did not think Ashton would summon the dead so soon," I murmured.

"That doesn't give you the right to completely disregard my wishes and ride off into danger!"

"I make my own decisions," I replied, anger sharpening my tone. "I'm not a child, Link!"

"But you are _carrying_ one! Our child—_my_ child!"

Something in his voice silenced me, something shrill and desperate.

"Did it ever occur to you," he went on, "that this whole thing, this whole attack, could be a trap? Did we not agree that Ashton would do anything in his power to draw you out?"

I crossed my arms, my face burning with shame. "I have the Ocarina, Link; I never would have come without it."

"And that's supposed to make it all better?" he exclaimed. "Suppose some idiot Vandelian decided to shoot you before bothering to identify you? That's all it would take, Zelda, and everything would be lost. It isn't worth the risk!"

"All right!" I cried, throwing up my hands. "I've heard enough. What's done is done. You want me to teleport back? I'll do it; I'm obviously not needed here."

Link shook his head and turned away, his hands on his hips. I sank onto the bed, watching him move toward the far window.

"...Actually you are," he muttered. "I can't help them."

I furrowed my brow, studying his back as an ominous chill crept down my spine. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I can't lift the curse," he said shortly.

I blinked, struggling to understand. "I don't—"

"Look," he turned to face me, "whatever is in me, whatever darkness that bastard put in me, it scares them half to death. I only make things worse."

He fell silent then, his eyes fixed on the floor, and my coldness thawed with concern for him.

_That was why he left the room_, I realized. _That was why he looked so shaken…_

"Link…"

"No," he stopped me with a hand. "There's nothing more to say about it." His boots thumped against the wooden floor as he moved for the door. "Let's just do what you came here to do."

With that he grasped the knob and stepped out into the hall. I knew Nadine still waited, and I imagined the families of those under the Black Sleep wondered where Link had gone. Unwilling to keep them waiting, I slowly rose from the bed and joined him in the hall. He closed the door and followed behind me, letting me finish what he had started.

Nadine stood waiting in the same place we had left her, and with a rush of embarrassment I wondered if she had overheard us. I pushed the feeling aside, hoping Link had soundproofed the room earlier. I had more important things to worry about.

"We are ready now," I said, giving her a polite smile. "You said they are all gathered in this room?"

"All but my husband—he is in our bedroom upstairs. Their families have gathered in there with them…"

"That's fine," I replied. "They should have someone there when they wake."

The elderly woman nodded and reached for one of the double doors, holding it open for us.

I stopped the moment I stepped inside, unprepared for the sight before me. Countless people filled the large room from wall to wall. Most were family of the fallen, sitting huddled together in silence. Everywhere I looked I saw faces of misery, exhaustion, and grief.

Those faces all turned toward Link and me, then whispered amongst themselves as hope roused their spirits. I considered addressing them, but Link leaned closer to whisper in my ear.

"There are four children, six adolescents, and eight women," he said. "The other twelve are men, young and old.

I swallowed hard. "Show me the children."

He moved in front of me and led me across the room, taking care not to step on any hands, and stopped before two young parents. Between them lay a small boy with curly blond hair, no more than six years old.

Again Link whispered in my ear. "I tried to wake him first." I caught the strain in his voice and blindly reached for his hand, giving it a small squeeze as I knelt before the boy.

"What is his name?" I asked the parents, who now watched us with wide, anxious eyes.

"Henry," the mother croaked. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she looked as though she hadn't slept in days.

The father appeared no better. "Please," he spoke in a hushed, hoarse voice, "can you help him?"

Gently I pulled back the boy's eyelid, relieved to see the white of his eye. There was hope for him yet.

"I will do everything I can to wake your son," I told them, "but the rest is up to Henry."

"He's just a little boy..." the mother choked, tears shining in her eyes.

Not knowing how to respond, I gave her a meaningful look and lay my hand against Henry's forehead. By now Link had settled behind me, and I nearly felt his anxiousness as he watched in silence. Pushing all distractions aside, I quieted my thoughts and opened my mind.

Slowly the room fell away, taking with it the hushed whispers and nervous shuffles of my audience. Then, once I had silence, I summoned my inner defenses, constructing a mental barrier to protect my mind from the darkness within the boy. Once barricaded, I drew another deep breath and carefully entered Henry's mind.

Immediately the curse attacked, crashing against my barrier as I felt around for some lingering trace of the boy's presence.

_Henry? _I called to him. _Can you hear me, little one?_

No answer. I plunged deeper into his subconscious, desperate to make contact.

_I know you're scared, but I'm here to help you. _

By now the darkness had surrounded me. If not for my shields, I would surely have been overwhelmed. But I was much stronger than the evil; I would not be harmed.

_Henry? Your mother and father are very worried about you. I can take you home to them. _

And there he was: so tiny but so bright. I sensed the mention of his parents had drawn him out. He struggled to reach me, extending his presence as far as he could. I closed the distance between us, holding my breath when his spirit touched mine. The innocence and trust radiating from him filled me with awe, and anxiously I pulled him up toward consciousness.

But the darkness would not surrender its host so easily. Furiously it slammed against my defenses, and a sharp pain shot through the back of my head. Ignoring the lingering throb, I mustered all my energy into one powerful tug…

_Hold on, Henry!_

His presence burst from the shadows like a torch in the night, breaking the curse's hold on him. The evil convulsed as though in pain, growing smaller and smaller until nothing remained.

My eyes flew open as I fell back into Link's waiting arms. The boy lay dazed but awake, gazing up at his parents as they kissed his face and wept with joy.

"You brought our Henry back," the mother choked, a smile warming her weary face. "How can I thank you...?"

I barely managed a response before the other villagers started climbing over each other to reach me, tugging on my clothes and begging me to help their own loved ones. Link and I tried asking them to sit back and wait, but in their desperation they barely heard us. Loud, panicked voices attacked me from all sides, until finally I lost my patience and shot to my feet.

"_Enough!"_

The room fell silent as everyone drew back in fear.

"I will attend to everyone," I assured them in a quieter voice, "but you must wait your turn. Please, I understand your anxiety, but I can do nothing unless you calm yourselves."

They hesitated, seemingly stunned before they returned to their original positions. Quietly they watched my every move as I proceeded on to the next child.

.

Much to my relief, I managed to wake each of the four children. Doing so used far less of my energy than I expected, and I wondered if their innocence had something to do with it. From there I moved on to the adolescents, hoping their youth still gave them strength. But the second one I approached—a girl—had already succumbed to the curse.

I had checked her eyes, as I did with every victim, and a terrible knot twisted in my stomach when I saw only blackness beneath her lids. My sorrow must have shown on my face, for her parents leaned forward, fear in their eyes.

"What?" her father asked. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head and reached for her forehead—but Link grabbed my wrist.

"_What are you doing?"_ he asked, speaking in Ancient Hylian. _"This one is lost."_

I gave him a pleading look. _"I need to know for certain."_

"Zelda—"

"_Link, please, I won't do anything dangerous. Please."_

I expected him to argue, but he glanced toward the girl's parents and sighed.

"_If I see the slightest sign of pain I'm breaking your connection."_

"_I know," _I said gently. _"Thank you."_

But my efforts quickly proved futile. The moment I entered the girl's mind the curse latched on to me, dragging me under so violently I cried out, partly in shock. Somewhere beyond my terror I felt two hands grip my shoulders and everything went white...

"…I'm sorry…" Link's somber voice echoed above me. "…There's nothing we can do…"

When the fog lifted I found myself huddled against his chest, grasping his shirt as the cold, lingering pain ran its course. Everywhere strangely warped cries lashed my ears, and I closed my eyes to stop the room from swaying.

"Put your arm around my neck," I heard Link's voice in my ear. Weakly I obeyed, letting him help me up off the floor. His arm tightly grasped my waist as he forced our way through the panicking crowd and out of the room.

The doors closed behind us, and the mere silence brought such relief I nearly wept. Link guided me into the nearby sitting room, forcing me down onto the sofa to recover while a servant brought me a mug of hot tea.

I held the drink with trembling hands and took deep, slow breaths, willing myself to calm down. The chaos that erupted from the young girl's death had numbed my senses, and I stared at the floor as though in a trance.

Link studied me with worried eyes, suppressing his own sorrow with concern for me.

"Are you sure you can do this?" he asked me.

I nodded, lifting my gaze to his. "It's just so much harder with their families there," I whispered.

"I can give you privacy if you prefer."

I jumped at the sound of Nadine's voice, unaware that she had joined us. I shook my head and set my tea aside.

"That won't be necessary. But I would like to see your husband before I return to the others."

She straightened, eyes wide. "I—you will?" she breathed.

"Yes." I rose from the chair. "Please bring me to him."

She turned and did so without further question. She had probably expected me to help him last, considering his age. But he was the leader of the village, and I wasn't ready to face the other families.

Silently Link and I followed her up the stairs to the private area of her home. She led us to the end of a hallway and paused before the last door.

"In here," she murmured, grasping the brass knob and letting us inside.

Her husband, Elder Jaden, lay in their large bed, still and silent as death. The slight rise and fall of his chest gave the only sign that the curse had not yet taken him. Of course none of that mattered until I checked his eyes.

A chair already sat beside the bed, and wordlessly I slipped into it while Link stood behind me, his hands gripping the back of the chair. Nadine stood off to the side, pressing her knuckles to her lips as she watched.

Heart thudding with nerves, I reached for Jaden's eyelid, gently pulling it back…

My audible sigh broke the silence. The evil had not yet claimed him.

With a trembling hand I reached for his forehead and closed my eyes, clearing away my thoughts. Within moments I had entered his mind.

Immediately I felt his presence, fighting to escape the curse's unyielding grip. His strength impressed me, so much I imagined he might have woken without my assistance. Such occurrences happened rarely but were not impossible.

_Take my hand_, I encouraged him. _I will pull you free._

Jaden hesitated, suspecting my sudden appearance a trick of the darkness.

_I have come at Nadine's request_, I assured him. _I wish to help you._

The sound of his wife's name caused his spirit to brighten, and quickly he accepted my assistance, wordlessly communicating his thanks. I rose up out of the darkness with a burst of energy, taking Jaden with me…

We both opened our eyes with a gasp, and I felt Link's hands grasp my shoulders, steadying me in my chair. Nadine rushed to Jaden's side with a cry of joy, and quickly I left the chair to give them space.

"Jaden," she wept, gently kissing his face. "My Jaden…"

I tuned for the door, pausing to glance back at the happy scene with a gentle smile. Link gave me an inquisitive look, but I simply took his hand and left the room, closing the door behind us.

"You're going back already?" he asked as we descended the stairs. "Do you want to sit a while? Finish your tea? You're still shaking…"

"A little tea won't stop that," I said quietly. "I just want to be done with this."

What I didn't tell him was how my success with Jaden had restored some of my courage, and I wanted to reenter the main hall before the feeling faded.

A sea of familiar faces turned toward us as we stepped back into the large room. I tried to ignore them as Link guided me toward the next fallen adolescent.

"_How many more?"_ I whispered to him.

He hesitated a moment, tallying them in his head. _"…Twenty-four."_

I swallowed, grateful for his comforting presence as I knelt before another forlorn family.

.

Within the hour fate forced me to declare six more dead—a teenage boy, one woman, and four men. They had already succumbed to the darkness within them, and I dared not repeat my experience with the young girl.

While those who lived far outnumbered the lost, I saw only those I had failed to save. I saw the families who cried the names of their loved ones and the fading smiles of their more fortunate neighbors. Grief filled the room from corner to corner, snuffing out the joy. Many still tugged at my clothes, begging me to try again. Link tried to keep their hands off me, telling them I had done all I could. I knew he wanted to leave, and so, unable to stand another minute in that room, I did just that.

Hurriedly I climbed to my feet and pushed my way toward the door. An intense chill plagued my body, making me tremble uncontrollably, but somehow I fled down the hall and out of the house. Vaguely I heard Link call after me, but I refused to stop. I wanted only to distance myself from that room and the misery within it.

On and on I ran, heading straight for the woods behind the village. There I collapsed behind some overgrown shrubs, gasping for breath until a sudden attack of nausea forced me to retch. Weakly I crawled away, distancing myself from the mess. There I lay on the ground and softly wept.

The sound of boots crunching the fallen leaves alerted me to Link's presence. I opened my eyes to see his blurred figure kneel beside me.

"I'm s-sorry," I choked, barely forming the words between shuddering sobs. "I'm s-so sorry f-for everything…"

His warm hand smoothed back my hair, sweeping some loose strands out of my sweaty face.

"Come here," he whispered, trailing his hand down my arm.

I lifted my head and reached for him, wrapping my trembling arms around his neck. Wordlessly he slipped one arm around my shoulders and the other under my knees, lifting me up as he rose to his feet. I pressed my face into his chest, longing for the bond, to be merged with him again. Anything to banish the cold emptiness inside me.

Tears streaked my face as I clung to him, and I grit my teeth to keep from crying. A storm of emotions raged within me, one I struggled to control. I recognized it all as the lingering effects from battling the Black Sleep, but I couldn't remember feeling so overwhelmed.

Somehow Link reached our bedroom without relinquishing his hold on me, and vaguely I heard the door close behind us. By that point sheer exhaustion had quieted my tears, but I still violently shook with cold.

Carefully Link set me down on my feet, his hands lingering on my arms to steady me. I feared I would collapse without his support, but somehow I remained standing while he pulled a heavy blanket off the bed. I looked up as he wrapped it around me, meeting his gaze, but I failed to read his guarded expression.

Placing his hand on my back, Link then guided me to an armchair in the far corner. There he sat and took my hand, inviting me to sit with him. Willingly I came, settling into his arms and huddling up against him.

"L-Link…" I buried my face against his throat and clutched at his shirt, aching to be closer.

"Shh," he soothed, running his hands along my shoulders and down my back.

He knew exactly how to help me. I needed warmth, physically and emotionally, and Link provided the best of both.

I curled up against his chest, burrowing into the blanket while he rubbed slow circles along my back. He had heated his hands with magic, making them wonderfully hot through the blanket. It was a trick I had taught him years ago, one I used mainly to ease pain—one I had used for him many times. The warmth and familiarity of his touch soothed me immensely, quelling my inner chill with every caress. My trembling gradually lessened, and before long I felt myself grow heavy with sleep.

Through my drowsy haze I felt Link breathe a tired sigh and lean his head against mine. I wanted to thank him, to tell him how sorry I was and how much I loved him...

But sleep closed in and stole my thoughts away.

**xxxxxxx**

The touch of a hand stroking my hair gently coaxed me out of slumber. I woke to find myself lying in a bed, my head on a soft feather pillow and my body still wrapped in warmth. At my bedside knelt Link, looking solemn and weary as ever.

"I'm sorry to wake you," he said softly, "but the villagers have agreed to hold a funeral—a cremation, I should say. It's set to begin within the hour, before night falls. Do you want to attend?"

"Funeral?" I mumbled, still half asleep.

He nodded. "For those we lost to the Black Sleep. The villagers wanted to wait a little longer, but I managed to convince them otherwise."

_Oh._ I closed my eyes as everything came rushing back. Sorrow flooded my disoriented thoughts, killing my moment of bliss.

"I'm sorry you had to do that alone," I murmured, moving the covers aside to slide my legs over the edge of the bed. "I do want to attend; thank you for waking me."

"Are you sure?" he asked, sitting down next to me. "Do you feel well enough?"

"I feel much better, thanks to you." I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and turned to meet his gaze, daring to take his hand in mine. "You've been very good to me. I don't deserve it."

Link threw me a dry look. "As if I could give you the cold shoulder when you were so miserable."

Then he sighed and gave a light shrug. "I should have known you wouldn't stay in the camp. You serve Hyrule, first and foremost—a promise to me won't stop you from running into the fire. I just hoped the baby would give you enough reason enough to stay."

His words triggered my temper, igniting my anger. "Stop implying that I don't care about our child's safety," I said sharply, releasing his hand. "That's the second time now."

"I didn't mean it like that—"

"Then how did you mean it?"

"I'm not saying you don't care," he said hurriedly, placing his hands on my shoulders to calm me. "You're just… not thinking like a mother yet. Not completely."

I stared at him, furrowing my brow. "Link, I fled the castle—I abandoned everything just to spare our child."

"Leaving was the logical thing to do," he replied. "Ashton had become a threat. The circumstances had changed; there was no reason to hesitate. This time was different. You had the choice to play it safe and stay away from those in need or take a risk and ride straight into danger."

My frown deepened. "So you're saying I chose the villagers over our child?"

"_No_. I'm saying the fact that you're carrying our child hasn't completely sunken in for you yet. I think some disbelief still keeps you from fully realizing his or her existence. Maybe even fear—fear of losing that existence."

_Again. _He didn't speak the word, but I saw the implication in his eyes.

I turned away, swallowing the lump in my throat. "That doesn't make any sense," I whispered.

"It does to me," he murmured, turning my face back to his. "Because if you had allowed yourself to truly bond with this life in you," gently he pressed his hand to my abdomen, "I _know _you would have never taken that risk."

I fell silent a long moment, unsettled by the clarity in his words. Conceiving another child had brought me great joy and excitement, but with it had come a quiet sense of wariness. It was as Link said: I'd been bracing myself the entire time.

_Then why did I invite the very thing I fear? Why did I place our child in danger by leaving the camp? _

Again Link's answer came: I hadn't been thinking like a mother. The queen in me still dominated, controlling my decisions. I did not act like a mother because I did not _feel_ like a mother. Part of me still believed I never would be.

"You know," my hushed voice trembled as I stared down at my hands, "Maddox once told me I might have unknowingly miscarried a few times since we married… He said a very early miscarriage can resemble my moon cycle. I've probably lost more than one."

I looked up at Link, and the sadness in his face sent a tear down mine. "Why should this time be any different?"

"It will be," he soothed, sweeping his thumbs below my eyes. "I know it; I feel it in my bones. We've already agreed this is the work of fate, haven't we?"

I lowered my gaze, trying and failing to share his optimism. I pressed a hand to my flat belly, wishing I could feel _something_. I wanted evidence, proof beyond the negative side effects like nausea and fatigue.

"But I still don't feel like a mother," I mumbled. "I want to be one; you know I do. More than anything I want to have a family with you. But I've been raised to be a queen… How can I be a good mother? I'm not even a very good wife."

"That's not true," Link murmured, tipping my face up to his. "Your role as Queen has made our marriage… complicated, but it has also helped shape the person you are. The person I chose to marry."

"It also led me to completely disregard you and our child," I said bitterly.

He sighed quietly. "That doesn't mean you will be a bad mother. Zelda, all your life you have served our people, striving to bring peace and happiness to others while denying your own desires. You rule with a caretaker's mentality—why else would you rush off to the aid of these people?"

I lowered my gaze, feeling unworthy of his words. "Because I'm stubborn to a fault."

"At times, perhaps." I heard a smile in his lighter tone as he tucked some hair behind my ear. "But your heart is never in the wrong place, simply because you are too caring a person. I know it; I've felt it. Our child will feel it too. That change, that shift in your perspective from queen to mother, I'm sure it will come naturally. You just need a little more time."

He took my hands then, clasping them tightly.

"But until you start thinking and feeling like a mother," he added, giving me a pleading look, "please, _please_ do as I ask and stay in the camp. Chances are countless more will fall under the Black Sleep, and you can't go riding to their aid. I doubt you would be so lucky if you pulled something like this again."

Shame burned through me as I absorbed his words, forming a lump in my throat. I swallowed and lifted my head, giving him an earnest look.

"I won't leave again," I assured him, my voice hushed with sincerity. "I know my words don't mean much to you at this point, but I promise I'll stay where it's safe. I'll do whatever you ask."

"Show me," he murmured, his eyes holding mine. "Prove it to me, Zelda."

"I will." I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed a warm kiss to his cheek. "I swear I will, Link."

He held me for a moment, idly caressing my back. "Then I need you to do something for me."

I pulled away slowly, my hands coming to rest on his shoulders. "Name it."

"I need you to return to the Forest Temple after supper tonight. I don't want you spending the night here."

My heart sank. "Will you come with me?"

He shook his head. "I have some things I need to discuss with the Elder and Nadine. I'll come for you in the next day or so. I'm sorry to make you wait, but it's the only way you'll be safe."

I nodded, breathing a quiet sigh. "I understand. I'll wait as long as you need."

"Thank you," he murmured.

Gently I brought a hand to his face, struggling to read him as I traced the inward curve of his cheek.

"Link... what happened when you tried to help the villagers?" I knew he didn't want to discuss it, but I had to try.

He hesitated, and I could almost sense him building a wall between us. Then he pulled away and rose from the bed.

"It doesn't matter now."

I followed after him, moving to block his path. My hand came to rest on his heart, over his scar.

"It matters to me," I said softly. "May I see it?"

He promptly removed my hand. "I'd rather you didn't."

"Link, you can't keep shutting me out like this…"

His eyes met mine with a spark of anger. "You staring at it won't help me."

I blinked, startled by his sudden coldness.

"Then talk to me… How can I help you when I know so little?"

He shook his head and pulled away, crossing the room to pull his cloak off the armchair.

"You can't," he muttered, flinging it over his shoulders. "No one can."

"Link, please—"

But he had already moved for the door, pausing only after he had stepped out into the hall.

"It's nearly time for the funeral," he said, avoiding my gaze. "I'll see you outside."

I started toward him, but he left without a second glance. The door closed soundly, leaving me in stunned silence.

**xxxxxxx**

The funeral took place just outside of the Elder's house, at the heart of the village. Beneath a dreary twilight sky the villagers formed a great mass around the seven bodies which lay in the irreversible grip of the Black Sleep. Their funeral pyres had been hurriedly carved, each of them bearing a simple prayer for peace.

Those who hadn't lost their homes and belongings had come in black attire, but everyone wore faces of grief. I had saved many lives that day, but the ones I had failed to rescue weighed heavily upon my heart and mind, as did the families they had left behind.

Those families stood across from me, clustered around their fallen mother, father, sister, brother, husband, wife, son, or daughter. Link stood to my right, Nadine to my left. Beside her stood seven villagers, perhaps family to the deceased. Each held an unlit torch.

For a while we all stood in silence, waiting. Then Nadine stepped forward and opened the ceremony with a prayer:

"Blessed Sisters, your children have left our world suddenly and tragically at the hands of evil. We pray you release them from the chains of darkness and welcome them into the light, so they may find eternal rest in your loving arms."

Then slowly she turned to Link and me.

"General," she quietly addressed him. "Please proceed."

He nodded and stepped forward, but I did not follow. I assumed the details of the ceremony had been arranged earlier, while I had been asleep, and so I had no part in it. Instead I watched Link approach the villagers, his cloak billowing in the cold breeze. Slowly he raised his hand, his palm facing the darkening sky, and summoned to it a small flame. We had gathered for a cremation, after all. If the body of one lost to the Black Sleep did not burn, it would soon rise as the very thing that killed it.

_A ReDead_.

"Only through this cleansing fire," Link's voice broke the attentive silence, solemn but clear, "may your loved ones find peace in the afterlife."

Then he grasped the top of the first torch, setting it afire before reaching for the next. He did this with all seven torches, moving slowly and with purpose. He could have easily ignited all seven with a simple wave of his hand, but grasping each one meant something more—to him and to the villagers. Link took that moment to look each person in the eyes, wordlessly communicating his sorrow as he gave them the only remaining way to free their loved ones. Pride stirred within me, surfacing above my melancholy. It was a subtle but significant gesture, one that demonstrated his kingly character.

When all of the torches had been lit, Link returned to my side while the torch bearers each approached the bodies of their loved ones. There they paused while a small group of singers began a slow elegy to honor the dead.

"No! No, you can't!"

I turned my head to see a young woman fling herself toward one of the bodies. Mournfully I recognized her as the wife of the youngest man I had declared dead.

She never reached him, however, for an older man caught her and held her to his chest.

"But the others came back!" she cried. "Please don't! _Please!_"

Her words faded as she wailed with grief, inconsolable. Still the singers did not pause, and the torch bearers did not hesitate. Solemnly they touched their torches to the pyres, and within moments all seven bodies lay engulfed in flames.

Countless more cries filled the air, clashing with the melancholic elegy and tearing into my heart. Again and again my eyes moved to the sobbing wife, barely younger than myself. Empathy clawed at my insides, unearthing horrid memories of my own. I tried to push those thoughts away and focus on the present, but everywhere I saw only more grief. I remembered how close I had grown to my father in the final year of his life. I thought of Impa and the horror of losing her.

These people had entered that nightmare. My coming had brought them hope, but my failure had stripped it away…

Suppressed sobs burned my throat, and I struggled to take deep, slow breaths. Tears trailed down my face, but I left them there, unafraid to show emotion.

Just when I feared losing all control, I felt Link's hand brush mine. I blinked, and the pressure in my chest subsided as he wrapped his fingers around mine. I clasped them tightly in return, finding the strength to regain my composure. I dared not look at him, but gently I stroked his hand with my thumb—a gesture he returned.

Of course Link shared my grief. He also knew the pain of losing a loved one, but unlike me he had not saved any of the villagers. Had I not come, he would have lit far more than seven torches that night. I could only imagine his state of mind.

_I can't just leave him like this. There is too much I don't know._

And I wouldn't. Until he unloaded some of his burden on me, I would refuse to teleport back to the Forest Temple. Since my flight from the castle, Link had strategically avoided a real discussion about his scar, and it was time I forced some answers from him. I only wished I had done it sooner.

_I _can_ help you_, I thought, knowing he could not hear me. _And I will, in whatever way I can._

**xxxxxxx**

Supper proved a gloomy affair. Food was hardly in abundance among the people of Aboda, and fear loomed over the village like a heavy fog. Nadine had invited Link and me to a private dinner with her and her grown up children—a son and daughter. Their spouses had also attended, though the children had been ushered into another room. Nadine's husband of course lay recovering in bed.

Link had forced me to wear the satchel, which contained the Ocarina and some basic supplies. He had grown increasingly paranoid as night fell over the village, even despite the Resistance fighters who kept watch outside. I'd begun to believe he would send me back to the Temple without supper, but fortunately I'd been allowed a decent meal.

"This is the best we have, I'm afraid," Nadine said as her servants placed a steaming roast on the table, along with potatoes and corn. "It's hardly a feast for royalty, but a humble village like ours can't hope to compete with the finest cooks in Hyrule."

"You have been more than accommodating," Link said, speaking in his formal tone. "Especially considering the danger we bring to your village."

"Nonsense," Nadine said with a wave of her hand. "It's the least I can do in return for your service to Aboda.

"In fact," she added, her fork hovering over her potatoes. "I was hoping you and your men might stay a while, to help us repair the damage."

Link hesitated, then set down his fork. "Actually, I've been meaning to discuss some… concerns I have for Aboda," he replied.

Nadine raised her brow. "Concerns? The worst is over. From here we must pick up the pieces and rebuild. We are strong enough to accomplish this ourselves; we simply hoped for a some assistance. Many hands make light work, after all."

"I do not question the strength of Aboda's people," Link replied. "But even if you completely restore your village, what makes you think the monsters will not attack again?"

Nadine fell silent a moment. "We will barricade the village to keep them out."

Link shifted, and I caught the tension in his posture. Outwardly, however, he remained calm.

"What sort of barricade do you have in mind?" he asked her.

Nadine sipped her water, allowing herself time to think.

"We could build a great wall," she said. "An enchanted wall. You are capable of creating barriers; are you not?"

I pursed my lips, knowing Link struggled to keep his exasperation in check. Clearly Nadine knew nothing about magic.

"It would take a small army of sorcerers to create a fire-resistant barrier large enough to contain the entire village," Link replied. "Not to mention weeks of construction."

I could hear his patience slipping, as could the others.

"Then what do you suggest, General?" she shot back, annoyance coloring her tone.

"You have only one option," he answered, meeting her gaze across the table. "Evacuation."

Nadine blanched, as did her family.

"Evacuate?" her son echoed. "And lose everything we've worked so hard for?"

Link turned to him, maintaining a solemn expression.

"Many here have already lost far more than that," he said. "Aboda is vulnerable; you cannot afford to remain here."

"And where would we go?" Nadine demanded. "We've lost nearly everything; we can't afford to start over somewhere else."

"I can offer you protection," Link said, trying a gentler approach. "The Resistance isn't as scattered as many believe. We have—"

He broke off when a terrible howl suddenly echoed in the distance. The sound bore a distinctly shrill and mournful tone, sending a chill down my spine.

"Wolves," Nadine murmured. "They pass through this area sometimes."

The howl sounded again, louder this time. Slowly Link rose from his chair, his eyes fixed on the far window as he listened.

"That is no wolf," he whispered.

The sound of hurried footsteps diverted our attention one of the servants burst into the dining room.

"They're back!" she shrieked. "Gods save us—_they're back_!"

Her cries rose to a scream as a blazing torch crashed through the window behind her, engulfing the hall in flames.

"Jaden!" Nadine cried, jumping out of her chair and fleeing the room. "Jaden!"

The others followed, screaming for their loved ones as they dodged the flames.

Link had already grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the hall, distancing us from the fire. Crowds of people filled the corridors, fleeing to whatever safe place they could find. Disbelief flooded my senses. _How… how did they reach the village? Where are the soldiers?_

Link pulled me into an empty hallway and forced me down onto the floor.

"Take the Ocarina and go," he spoke above the noise; his voice strained with suppressed panic. "I will come for you as soon as I can."

My heart pounded in my throat. "Come with me," I breathed, clutching his arms. "Please, Link—"

A flaming arrow shot through a nearby window and pierced the wall, devouring the wallpaper just five steps away.

"GO_ NOW!_"

His terror rang though my ears as I snatched the Ocarina from my satchel. My hands shook as I played the Minuet of the Forest, but somehow I hit every note. My eyes locked with Link's as I finished the melody, registering his frightened, desperate expression before the Ocarina's magic swept me away.


	32. Chapter XXXII

AN: Yay, got this one done in about a week - _amazing!_ D: Hopefully it doesn't suck because of that...

Also, so in case you haven't seen my profile, I just found out that I can delete chapters without losing people's kind feedback. *facepalm* Why no one ever told me this, I do not know, but I am happy to say those dumb excerpts are finally gone.

Thank you as always for your inspiring reviews - I really, really appreciate it! =) Oh, and Happy New Year!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXXII

Cold rain pelted my head and shoulders the moment I reappeared in the Sacred Forest Meadow. Startled, I stumbled forward and broke into a run toward the Forest Temple. Once inside, I stood in the dry antechamber, soaking wet in the darkness. Knowing I could either dry myself or freeze in my wet clothes, I began searching for firewood. This proved quite challenging in the darkness, but fortunately a number of dry branches and leaves had collected on the floor. Once I had gathered a small pile of wood, I carefully made a timber bed of dead leaves and reached into my satchel for a knife and flint.

It took me a few tries before sparks caught and smoldered on the timber bed. As one blessed with the Gift, I had grown accustomed to creating fire with a mere flick of my wrist. Thankfully Impa had taught me basic survival skills throughout my childhood. Like Link, she did not approve of reliance on magic and remained well-practiced in basic survival skills. I imagined both of them would have been successful on their first try.

Gently I blew on the glowing timber, helping the fire breathe and grow. Seconds later a small flame flickered to life, and I sat back against the wall with a sigh of relief. With my distraction gone, the damp chill steadily seeped into my awareness. I shivered and kindled the fire, eager for its warmth. My cloak had been forgotten in Aboda…

I stared into the flames, so much smaller and gentler than the ones I had escaped in the village. I could only imagine the chaos I had left behind. Those poor people had already endured so much; how much more would they lose? I wanted to hope that Link could protect them, but how many monsters had attacked? The people of Aboda were helpless against Stalfos, Wolfos, or ReDeads, and Link had less than ten soldiers to assist him. What if the monsters overwhelmed them? _What if…?_

I closed my eyes and shook my head, rubbing my arms as I fought to dispose of such thoughts. Yet I could not banish the look on Link's face before I had teleported. His uncharacteristic fear haunted me, as did his distant behavior and his colorless, exhausted appearance.

_He is not well. _

Of course he hadn't been _well_ since his imprisonment in the desert, but I had never realized the seriousness of his condition. I had seen so little of him in the past five months, and he had told me almost nothing about his mysterious scar. The mark affected him more than he allowed anyone to see, including me. But I should have known better. Link had a talent for concealing pain; I should have tried harder to learn the truth.

Tears stung my eyes as I weighed the consequences of my inaction. _How could I be so stupid?_ Of course Link would put the safety of the villagers before his own, and I feared it would be the end of him. _I should have never left without him_.

But then what of the villagers? Fleeing was cowardly and selfish—at least it would be for Link. I had an unborn child to protect, but his duty to our people could not be ignored. His life was out of my hands; it always had been.

Long ago, during the Imprisoning War, I had followed him, guided him, and watched over him while he fought for Hyrule. I could no longer do that. I had masqueraded as Sheik to protect myself then, but this time I remained my true self, the sovereign Queen Zelda. For that reason I could not leave the shadows, not until the time was right.

Link and I had been destined to protect Hyrule all our lives, but he had been charged with her defense and I with her rule. Although we often worked side by side, our duties held very different demands. It was Link who fought the battles, he who shed blood and danced with death. Once the swords had been cast down and the dust of war had settled, I then rose to pick up the pieces and restore what had been lost. Whether Link lived or died did not matter, as long as he freed our people from the clutches of evil. Hyrule needed only me to live on, only me to lead our people out of darkness into a new age of peace.

This was why Link remained in Aboda, and I had fled to the Temple. This was why we would always be separated in the face of danger. Even when Link battled Ganon that fateful night, I had stood by, waiting to assist after the final blow…

_But this is only one small village… _Tragic as it was, this attack would not alter the future. Surely the gods would spare Link for the final fight?

_Or perhaps he should never have been there in the first place. _

I couldn't pretend to know the will of the gods. I only knew that, whatever happened, I could not risk further interference. Until my time came to act, I could only stand by and pray, especially now that Hyrule's heir grew within me.

And pray I did, until my eyes grew heavy with sleep.

**xxxxxxx**

_Fire. Screaming. Death._

_Everywhere Stalfos, armed servants of the underworld, terrorized the people of Aboda, wielding jagged blades and blazing torches. Our brave but few Hylian soldiers struggled in battle, unable to ignore their fear. They had fought these demons only once before, and that tragic, disastrous battle still haunted them._

_Fortunately the dead moved slowly and without urgency, enabling the more fortunate villagers to flee somewhere safe. They flooded into underground cellars, shutting out the destruction above. I feared the torches would burn right through their wooden doors…_

…_But then _he _appeared._

_Within seconds he had dropped to his knees and slammed his hand down against the doors, sealing them with a flash of light. Then he sprang to his feet, weaving through his enemies as he cleaved them in two. Never did he pause to engage in combat. The Stalfos never found a chance to block Valéshar before Link finished them. He left a trail of destruction, for he was unstoppable, seemingly invincible. _

_Until something changed in him._

_I watched as he suddenly stopped in his tracks, blue eyes wide with fear. __Carefully he searched the area... seemingly__ aware of something… sensing something..._

_Then his free hand flew to his head, clutching it as though in pain. He sank down onto one knee, clenching his teeth as he battled something within._

_At the same time three Stalfos appeared from the shadows, surrounding him. Link struggled to his feet and swung Valéshar in a wide arc, slicing through two of the skeletal monsters. Then he stumbled, as though the blow had sapped his energy. Yet he had used no magic._

_Too slow… His movements were too slow for one outnumbered… The third Stalfos lunged at him, sword flashing in the surrounding firelight…_

_Link's cry ripped into me, but I could not look away. The scene played on, forcing me to watch as he staggered backward, one hand clutching his wound while the other still grasped Valéshar._

_Then out of the darkness two soldiers came running toward him, shouting as they slashed the third Stalfos to pieces. One dropped his sword and caught Link before he hit the ground while the other knelt before him._

"_General," the soldier's voice sounded unnaturally clear while the scattered noise of the village faded into the background. "General, hold on—"_

_Link opened his eyes, still clear despite his pain, and snatched the young man's cloak._

"_Cauterize it," he hissed through clenched teeth. _

_The soldier's eyes widened all the more. "Sir, how can I—"_

"_Your sword," Link's strained voice came rough as gravel, "show it to me."_

_The soldier obeyed, despite his confusion, and quickly Link grabbed the blade. I watched, amazed as the steel glowed red, then yellow, then white within seconds._

"_Seal it," he gasped, releasing the sword and lifting his trembling, bloodied hand from his wound. _

_The soldier behind Link took the sword from the younger man._

"_Expose the wound," he ordered his comrade. "Hurry!"_

_The younger man tore Link's shirt—and released a quiet gasp._

_Realization struck me in a single, frigid wave. _The scar. _Utterly displayed._

_Link squeezed his eyes shut—whether more from pain, humiliation, or terror, I could not tell._

"_What are you doing?" the older soldier snapped, handing him the sword. "Seal it, you fool!"_

_The younger man jerked as though shaken from a trance and took back his weapon, careful not to touch the white-hot blade. Then quickly he pressed the flat steel against Link's wound. _

_Of course Link tried not to cry out, but the pain proved too intense. His partly suppressed agony filled my ears, tearing into my innermost core… _

.

A woman's hushed, shuddering sobs gradually replaced the sound of Link's pain, and only after several frantic heartbeats did I recognize my own voice.

Still I lay there, weeping against the cold, hard floor until my tears were spent. I had the time and privacy to do so; Link obviously wouldn't come for me anytime soon, if ever…

Then slowly I lifted my head and sat up, too numb with feeling to mind my sore muscles. For a while I just sat and stared at the cold remnants of my campfire, watching the dream replay behind my eyes.

_Link... _

I knew it had been a vision. I had watched the scene, possibly as it happened over in Aboda. The gods had shown me Link's struggle, and I knew it had something to do with his scar. But in that moment all I drew from it was terror.

Eventually I grew aware of how my face itched from dirt and tears, and slowly I climbed to my feet, intending to find water. I didn't know what else to do with myself.

I moved as though in a trance, descending the stairs and through the Meadow's overgrown, dew-ridden grass. My body shivered in the morning chill, but I barely felt it as I proceeded down the narrow stairway toward the labyrinth. This was the farthest I dared to go, and fortunately a small pool of water lay a short walk to my left. Wearily I knelt before it, registering my miserable reflection before dipping my hands in the still, ice cold water. I splashed it against my face, gasping when the shock cleared my senses. A heavy fog lifted from my mind, allowing me to realize how cold and hungry I was.

_Link did not send me here so I could make myself ill._

The mere thought of him nearly sent me back into melancholy, but stubbornly I pushed those thoughts away, trying to focus on my current needs. After taking a long drink, I then rose and trudged back to the Temple, rubbing my arms and clinging to my feeble determination.

.

Within the hour I had started another fire and eaten some food from my satchel. Link had made sure I packed enough to last three days, promising he would come for me before I ran out. Obviously he could no longer keep that promise, which left me more or less stranded.

Of course I could use the Ocarina to teleport elsewhere, but every option involved some risk. The Temple of Time was out of the question, being located on Ashton's doorstep. I could not enter Death Mountain Crater without some magical protection against the heat, and Lake Hylia remained occupied by Vandelians. I could teleport to the Desert Colossus, but the Spirit Temple often stayed empty for days, and crossing the Haunted Wasteland would be suicide. Going there also brought me no closer to Link, and I desperately wanted to reach him.

Kakariko Village, however, remained a possibility. I could teleport there at night and take the Death Mountain Trail to Goron City. Still it was a dangerous plan, as the village was crawling with Vandelians, and I had no cloak to hide my face.

The safest option—and potentially the most painful one—was to stay in the Forest Temple and wait for Saria. I decided to try this as long as my food lasted, and then I would look for Nabooru in the Spirit Temple. If anything she could provide more food—Saria would have to come eventually. If all else failed, I would try Kakariko Village.

I prayed Saria would come soon.

.

Waiting proved more agonizing than I had foreseen. The uncertainty surrounding Link's fate left me beyond anxious. Again and again I paced the Sacred Forest Meadow, raking my fingers through my hair, which I had braided and unbraided countless times. I cursed my vision, wishing I could have waited in ignorance. My imagination might have driven me half mad with worry, but at least I could have dismissed it all as a fabrication. My vision had thrust cold hard fact into my awareness. Link had been near fatally wounded, and by no means did cauterization guarantee his survival. For all I knew, he could be dead.

_Stop it. Don't even think it._

The way he had dropped to the ground and clutched at his head bore a chilling resemblance to his actions that day in the desert, when we came face to face with the necromancer. I knew his scar had interfered somehow, but I could not shake the way he had scanned the area first, clearly afraid of something lurking in the shadows.

_Could the necromancer have been there? Could _he_ be the cause of these attacks? _It would explain the lack of Vandelian interference—perhaps he didn't want Ashton involved? But why keep such a distance; why not take Link prisoner again? It would have been so easy there amidst the chaos...

The answers eluded me, and so, in a desperate attempt to distract myself from such alarming thoughts, I ventured inside the Forest Temple to explore its eerie interior. Ancient and full of mystery, the place ordinarily fascinated me. That time, however, I found myself growing increasingly anxious and lonely within its dark, winding corridors. I soon returned to the Temple's antechamber, fearing I might miss Saria.

I sat cross-legged on her usual tree stump, struggling to pray and meditate, as she often did there. But my failure to concentrate brought only frustration. So I resumed my frantic wanderings until darkness fell and merciful sleep finally claimed me.

**xxxxxxx**

"Zelda?"

A small, feminine voice broke through my slumber.

"Zelda, please wake up…"

My eyes blinked open, and groggily I lifted my head to see a girl with blue eyes and green hair gazing down at me. Anxiety lined her young face, and a fairy hovered above her head, glowing pale pink in the morning light.

"Saria—" I sprang to my knees and grasped her shoulders. "Saria, did Link send you?"

She shook her head, and my stomach knotted when I saw tears shining in her eyes.

"Where is he?" I demanded, desperate to drown my waves of panic. "Tell me everything you know!"

"In Goron City," she choked. "He's been hurt. Badly."

"But he's alive?"

"I don't know…" Her voice began to tremble as tears trailed down her face. "Some people I don't know w-were with him so… we couldn't f-follow …"

"They carried him into Goron City," her fairy piped up. "That's all we saw."

"He wasn't moving," Saria said. "We… We didn't even know it was him until the lady uncovered his face—"

"His face was covered?" I shrieked, my hands tightening on her small shoulders.

"Wh-what does that mean?" Saria stammered, fresh tears brimming in her eyes.

I released her and bowed my head, forcing myself to take a few calming breaths.

"…Nothing," I whispered. "They… They probably didn't want the other residents to see him."

_I would know… I would know if he was dead…_ Fear clutched my heart with a painful iron grip, and I feared I would be sick.

"Oh… that makes sense," Saria murmured, clearly confused by my reaction.

"Take me to him," I whispered. "Please, Saria."

She nodded and took my hand, helping me up off the Temple floor.

"We can bring you around the camp and directly to the portal," her fairy squeaked.

"Thank you." I grabbed my satchel, letting Saria lead me down the ruined stairs.

"Those people I saw were worried about you too," she said as we crossed the Sacred Forest Meadow. "They think you might have been captured or something."

I furrowed my brow, hoping no one had gone looking for me.

"We wandered around the camp's boundaries," her fairy explained, "trying to learn more about Link."

Saria nodded. "But no one else seems to know anything, so we thought we would check the Temple." She turned to me then, her blue eyes filled with sadness. "Do you know what happened to Link?"

I swallowed as the vision filled my head for the umpteenth time, but I found no reason to share such painful details with her.

"There was an attack… on a village not too far from here… Link made me teleport to the Temple right away, so I don't know what happened. I've been there only two days, but I've been worried sick."

"Me too," Saria whispered. "I'm glad you're okay, at least."

I forced a small, appreciative smile and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

She guided me the rest of the way in silence, passing through the twists and turns of the quiet Lost Woods without hesitation. I made no effort to talk either; walking proved challenging enough when my knees shook with every step.

Finally, after what felt like hours, we reached the portal to Goron City, and thankfully the area remained clear. I placed a hand on Saria's shoulder, looking down into her troubled face.

"I'll send Darunia out to explain everything if I can."

"Thank you, Zelda."

I touched her pale cheek, failing to find words of comfort before I turned and hurried through the portal. The air instantly grew warmer, and blindly I felt for the switch to open the door into the City. My hand soon brushed the corner, and impatiently I smacked it. A strip of light appeared as the wall slid aside, and I burst into a run, ignoring all the stunned Gorons as I flew down levels and stairways toward the infirmary.

"Sister Zelda?" a familiar voice boomed, stopping me in my tracks.

I whirled around to see Darunia's large frame filling the entranceway to a nearby corridor, his brow raised in shock.

"Darunia," I breathed, rushing over to him. "Where is he?"

"Sister—"

"_Where is he?"_

Wordlessly he pointed down the corridor and stepped aside, allowing me to pass. Torches lit my way through the short, tunnel-like passage, leading to a room filled with firelight. I skidded to a halt in the doorway, breathless and shaking.

Cleia, Ian, and Theodus all stood inside the small, circular room, clearly stunned by my appearance.

"Your Majesty!" Theodus stammered.

But I didn't hear him. I barely registered them at all. I saw only Link, lying deathly still in the small bed.

"He's alive," Ian assured me, seeing the stricken look on my face. "But barely."

Slowly I approached the bed, sinking onto a small stool already placed beside it. With a trembling hand I caressed Link's colorless cheek, alarmed to find his skin hot to the touch. A thin layer of sweat clung to his brow, and a subtle, pained expression lingered on his face. His covers had been pulled up to his shoulders, and I drew them back to see his wound...

My soft gasp broke the silence. I had been prepared for the bloodstained bandages wrapped around his midriff, but I certainly hadn't expected to find dark tendrils spread across his entire torso and beyond. The ugly arterial marks of his scar covered nearly every inch of his exposed skin. The sight made my head spin, and gently I placed the covers back over his shoulders. Taking a moment to collect myself, I lifted my watering eyes to the others, who stood watching in solemn silence.

"What happened to him?" I whispered, despite knowing half the answer.

Cleia, Darunia, and Ian looked at Theodus, who sighed quietly.

"I wasn't there when it happened," he said, "but I've received reports from those who were. After the monsters attacked, Adoba burst into chaos—as you might have witnessed. The general and the other soldiers did their best to protect the villagers, but Aboda was overrun by those skeletal monsters—Stalfos, I believe they're called. Most of the villagers fled down into their cellars, and the general managed to keep them safe by sealing the doors with special barriers.

"He and the other soldiers fought off the monsters, but there were just too many. They attacked in groups and eventually managed to wound the general. Two soldiers thankfully came to his rescue, and the general ordered them to cauterize his wound."

I closed my eyes, recalling the vision as Theodus narrated the events.

"How did he make it here?" I whispered.

"The same two soldiers brought him down into one of the cellars and protected him until dawn. Naturally evacuation became their priority the following morning. The soldiers brought him here on a cart through the forest, as they did with the other wounded villagers. They didn't waste any time getting him here, thank the gods, and they were smart enough to cover his face when they entered the camp. No one knows he's here."

Cleia shook her head, a grave look on her face. "He was in terrible condition when they brought him to me," she murmured. "Cauterizing the wound may have saved his life, but it didn't help his infection at all—"

"Infection?" I echoed, feeling a terrible weight in my chest.

"I'm afraid so. Those monsters fight with filthy blades, coated in some awful poison or magic that prevents the wound from healing properly—I've seen it in the other wounded villagers. Link must have known. He likely would have bled to death, had he not cauterized it."

"How bad is the infection?" I whispered, fearing I'd be sick if I spoke any louder.

She drew a deep breath and released it. "I had to reopen his wound, clean it, and stitch it back up. I'm not sure how much it helped, since he's still runnin' a high fever… but don't you worry," she added, noticing my panicked expression. "I'll keep an especially close eye on him. With the right medicine and a good long rest, he should soon be recovering soon enough."

"Do we even have the right medicine?" I asked, hearing my voice quiver. Link had called it a "makeshift" infirmary, after all.

"We have good medicine here, Lady Zelda; Link made sure of that."

I swallowed and looked away, letting my gaze drop back to Link. The blanket didn't completely cover his shoulders, and I caught a glimpse of the black tendrils marring his skin. My heart skipped a beat. _Oh…_

"How many have seen his mark?" I asked, pulling the covers up to hide it.

They exchanged nervous looks, sending another wave of dread through me.

"Just the four of us," Theodus replied. "Plus the two soldiers who rescued him."

I nodded, making a mental note to speak with those soldiers. "Please," I choked, struggling to keep my voice steady, "please keep this between us. No one else can know. He's tried so hard to keep it secret."

"We wouldn't dream of it," Ian gently assured me, though I could see how much the mark troubled him.

"What is it?" Cleia whispered. "It looks… painful."

I lowered my gaze and smoothed Link's hair aside, letting my fingers trace the curve of his cheek. I hesitated to discuss the scar; doing so without Link's consent felt like a form of betrayal.

"…You all know Ashton handed Link over to the necromancer in exchange for the staff," I murmured, lifting my gaze back to theirs.

They nodded, listening intently.

"While Link was imprisoned, the necromancer tortured him in numerous ways, trying to weaken him so he could cast some terrible curse upon him." My voice caught as the visions filled my mind, flashing scenes of him chained to the altar, screaming in agony.

"Link managed to escape before the necromancer could finish his ritual… but not unscathed." Gently I trailed my fingers over his scar, still hidden beneath the bedcovers. "This mark has remained with him since that day."

"What is it doing to him?" Ian inquired softly.

I shook my head, guilt tightening my throat. "We don't know. I couldn't find anything about it in the castle library, but Impa suspects some kind of forbidden Sheikan magic. She's currently out looking for a cure. The mark does bring him pain and nightmares, but I don't know much more than that. Link is very secretive about it, even with me. He is… deeply ashamed of it. He doesn't know what to do about it, so he's tried to ignore it."

"Do you think it interferes with his ability to fight?" Theodus asked.

"I do," I answered softly. "I think it's getting worse, and I think it's the reason he struggled in Aboda."

Silence filled the room, heavy with questions no one dared ask. Suddenly I longed to be rid of their worried eyes and unspoken thoughts.

"Ian, Lieutenant," I addressed them. "I must speak with the two soldiers responsible for Link's rescue. Please bring them to me."

"Certainly, your Majesty." Each gave a reverent nod and left the room.

"Darunia."

The Goron attentively uncrossed his arms. "Yes, Sister?"

"Saria is waiting outside the portal, anxiously waiting for an explanation. Please go to her."

"Of course, Sister."

"I should go check on the other villagers," Cleia spoke up as she moved for the door. "They're all being kept on the level below this one—I'll be there if you need me."

I nodded and thanked her, grateful to have a moment alone with Link.

I turned to him with a quiet sigh, stroking his pale cheek. My fingers brushed his wrinkled brow, trying to smooth away his worry. But his troubled look remained, so instead I lay my head against his, smoothing his damp hair and willing the sobs in my throat to subside, at least until I had spoken with the soldiers.

I stayed like that a while, listening to his shallow breathing until a knock interrupted me. Slowly I lifted my head to see Ian standing in the doorway, wearing a sympathetic expression.

"The soldiers are just outside the corridor, your Majesty," he said gently. "Should I send them in?"

"Yes," I replied, rising to my feet and straightening my tunic. "Please." I hardly looked presentable for an audience—not that I cared.

Moments later Ian returned with two men—one young and the other perhaps in his forties. Immediately I recognized them as the soldiers in my vision.

"I introduce Mr. Garret Smith," Ian said, gesturing to the older man, "and Mr. James Conrad."

"Your Majesty," they murmured, bowing at the waist while Ian slipped back out into the corridor.

With his lined face and graying hair, Smith held the look of a seasoned soldier, having broad shoulders, strong biceps, and a hard, whiskered face. Conrad was much the opposite—tall and slender with a smooth but serious face.

"Gentlemen," I said, keeping my voice calm and steady. "I have summoned you here to thank you for saving my husband's life. No words can express my personal gratitude, but I assure you will be properly recognized for your service at the earliest opportunity."

The soldiers glanced at each other, unsure of what to say.

"He saved us all, your Majesty," Smith spoke. "We wouldn't have lasted the night without him."

"We were just doing our duty," Conrad added.

Had Link not been lying wounded and ill beside me, I might have found the will to smile.

"You have shown great bravery and extraordinary loyalty," I told them. "You will be rewarded—I will see to it personally."

They mumbled their thanks, clearly at a loss for words.

"There is, however, a more unsettling matter I wish to address," I informed them, moving toward the bed and resting my hand on the headboard. "It concerns the mark on his chest."

They shifted uncomfortably, unsure where to look.

"Oh, that's none of our business, your Majesty," Smith assured me. Conrad nodded his agreement, though I could see he was curious.

"You're right," I said, "it isn't. But I must discuss it nonethless, now that you have seen it."

I glanced down at Link, careful to keep my voice solemn and void of emotion.

"My husband has been ill for some time, but until now he has managed to carry on without much interference. It would seem he underestimated how serious it has become."

_And I failed to question it._

I swallowed and turned to them, wearing a look of utter seriousness. "It is crucial that his condition remains as secret as possible. If word spread among the Resistance that their leader has fallen, it would only inspire fear, especially if they know about the mark. My husband must remain an image of infallible strength and hope at all times... no matter what," I added softly, dropping my gaze to Link's still form.

"You were wise to cover his face before you brought him through the camp," I recalled, looking back to the soldiers. "So you must be aware of this."

"Yes, your Majesty," Smith replied. "We knew seeing him like that could cause panic."

"No one but us has seen him… save the leaders," Conrad added.

"I know the leaders personally, and I trust them to honor my husband's privacy," I replied. "While you have proven yourselves to be honorable men, this type of secret has a way of slipping out, despite our intentions." I paused, sighing lightly. "If word of his condition or even his presence here spreads among the residents of our camp, I'm afraid I will have to hold you both personally responsible."

"We understand, your Majesty," Smith quickly replied. Conrad gave a nervous nod.

"Thank you. Then I believe that concludes the matter… unless you have something to add?"

"Please," Conrad spoke, apparently struggling between reverence and curiosity. "…What is it?"

I furrowed my brow. "Pardon?"

"His illness, is it… fatal?"

Smith lowered his gaze and breathed a quiet, exasperated sigh.

I regarded the nervous young man, choosing my words carefully. In truth I could not answer his question, since I knew so little about the scar. Even if I did, I certainly wouldn't divulge such details to a mere soldier. Smith knew this.

"It is his burden to bear," I replied. "And mine. That is all you need to know."

Conrad nodded and bowed his head, blushing with shame.

"Thank you, gentlemen," I then said, eager to dismiss them and return to Link. "That will be all for now."

They bowed and left without another word, leaving me alone with Link once again. Only the faint crackling of torches broke the silence, drowning out his quiet breathing.

I sank back down onto the stool at his bedside, feeling my anxiety come crawling back. Inhaling a deep, steadying breath, I drew his covers back for a closer look at his scar.

It made a disturbing sight. The black tendrils stopped at his neck but snaked over his shoulders and down his arms, stopping at his elbows. More crept around his waist and vanished under the bandages covering his abdomen.

Tears stung my eyes as I registered the alarming change. Three months had passed since I last saw it, and back then it had barely covered his chest… _What else has it done to you?_

"Why did you keep this from me?" I choked, feeling tears wet my cheek. Of course he couldn't respond, but I knew the answer anyway. The scar both shamed and frightened Link; he had no desire to thrust such a burden upon me… especially in my condition.

"And you say I'm the stubborn one," I whispered.

_Don't you dare blame him_, I scolded myself. _Your ignorance is your fault._

I shook my head and pulled the covers back over him, gently trailing my fingers across his chest.

"I'm so sorry," I struggled to say. "I meant to make you talk about it… but then it all went wrong…"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, taking deep breaths until my tears subsided. _We still have time… I haven't lost him yet. He'll wake up, and then we can talk._

"From now on we endure this together—in every possible way." Slowly I leaned over him, pressing a tender kiss to his warm forehead.

"No more broken promises from me," I whispered, "and no more secrets from you."


	33. Chapter XXXIII

AN: Gah, FINALLY, here it is! I'm so sorry it took forever - it was a very challenging chapter to write, and I've had terrible writer's block all month long!

It is now 2:00 am, and I fear I'm waaay to sleepy to recognize bad writing, but I just... can't... proofread it anymore...

Thank you for the wonderful reviews, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'll try to not take so long with the next one! D:

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXXIII

Three days crawled by, and Link showed no sign of improvement. His fever had yet to break, and each morning I woke to find his bandages still red with blood. Worse, the area around his wound remained raw and agitated as his infection continued to fester. My anxiety repeatedly built up inside, seeping out in short, angry bursts.

"_Cleia, look at him," _I had exclaimed when she and I redressed his wound that morning. _"He can't go on like this; the medicine isn't working!"_

I hadn't meant to snap at her, but the worried look on her face had aggravated me all the more. As an experienced midwife, she knew how to hide her anxiousness, so any sign of it frightened me.

"_It needs some time to take effect, Lady Zelda,"_ she had replied, maintaining a gentler tone. _"We'll see results soon."_

I wanted to shout at her, to silence her empty reassurances that pricked me like needles. Instead I tore myself from Link's side and briskly headed off toward the portal, eager for a change of scenery. I paced the short passage leading into the camp, breathing the fresh air and struggling to compose myself. I clung to my frustration, fearing I would succumb to tears without it. I could hardly walk around the camp in such a state; I had to maintain a calm demeanor at all times, false though it was.

Eventually I calmed myself enough to enter the camp. In somber, preoccupied silence I passed a group of people bustling about the supplies area, which marked the outer section of the camp. Here the Resistance stored countless crates, barrels, and bottles—as well as the red ice Ruto had donated. The supplies were constantly counted and always guarded, and the area remained closest to Goron City for easy transfer, primarily to the kitchens.

Heather and Adam had pitched their tent just outside this area, and I usually met Heather there for breakfast—brunch, more like. The cooks served breakfast late in the morning because the camp had no midday meal, simply to preserve the stock.

Our morning visits did help lift my heavy spirits, but barely. I knew I made poor company, since a mere smile seemed to sap my energy, but Heather of course forgave my dreary moods.

I found her sitting on a blanket she had spread over the grass, two plates in her hands. She looked up at the sound of leaves crunching under my boots and brushed some dark curls out of her eyes.

"Good morning!" she beamed. "You've come just in time—the food is still hot."

I returned the greeting and sat down beside her, inhaling the smells wafting from our plates.

"Bacon today?" I raised my brow, knowing the cooks had a limited supply of it.

"They like to surprise us now and then," she smiled, handing me a cup of milk. "Adam prepared ours personally."

"Well, then I'm sure it's delicious." I picked up a piece and bit into it, savoring the familiar taste. "Very good," I murmured with a nod. My eyes focused on my plate, avoiding Heather's observant gaze.

"How are you?" she asked me gently, trying to gauge my mood.

I sighed quietly. "I've been better."

"I take it he isn't doing any better either," she murmured.

I shook my head and cracked a hard-boiled egg, occupying myself with its shell.

While the residents all knew of my return, Link still remained away on Resistance business—allegedly. Only Heather knew the truth about him, though I had kept his scar hidden from her. Of course I trusted her to respect his privacy, but I saw no reason to expose it.

She waited for me to say more about Link, but I remained silent. It was only more of the same.

"How are you?" I asked her instead. "And Adam?"

She shrugged, giving me a sad smile. "We're probably two of the happiest people here. We've been talking about the future a lot, planning for the best and the worst—not that we've lost faith," she added quickly. "We just want to be prepared."

"Of course," I said. "That's wise of you. The future is very uncertain, after all…"

So far I had failed to prepare myself for the worst. Those words painted a horrible picture not just for me but for all of Hyrule.

"We're hoping that," Heather said slowly, "if things go back to the way they were, Adam could find a job in a kitchen somewhere in Castletown, and I could continue working in the castle until we saved enough money to marry and buy a home…"

I shook my head, swallowing some egg. "You needn't worry about money, Heather. If things go back to the way they were, I'll give you whatever you need to start a life with Adam."

She stared at me, a look of shock on her pretty face. Of course she hadn't expected it, even after everything she had done for me.

"Oh, but I—I couldn't…"

"Heather, please, it's the least I can do to repay you."

"But I don't want to be repaid—"

"Then let me reward you," I said gently, placing my hand over hers. "I want to help you. You have been such a blessing to me during these difficult times, and I want to see you happy."

Again she hesitated, tears shining in her eyes.

"Oh, my Lady," she cried, lunging forward to hug me. "_You_ are the blessing!"

I smiled—really smiled—for the first time in weeks. "I don't know about that," I murmured as she pulled away. "Let's first see how this war turns out."

She nodded, her smile turning sad. But her eyes still twinkled with excitement, and with all my heart I hoped I could fulfill my promise.

.

After we had finished our breakfast, Heather gathered our dishes and ran them over to Adam in Goron City. Then she hurried back to join me for a stroll through the camp.

I had spent minimal time in the Lost Woods over the past three days, but everything remained relatively unchanged. We had yet to see any sunlight penetrate the cloudy sky, and the surrounding trees looked faded and dreary as ever. An unnatural chill clung to the air, as did an eerie silence. Even the birds rarely found reason to sing.

The villagers from Aboda had adapted to life within the camp well enough, but their misery had spread like a disease. Not that anyone blamed them. They had lost their homes after all, some even their loved ones.

Rage boiled within me as I absorbed the melancholy, and I struggled to maintain my calm, collected queen's mask.

The necromancer had done this. He had caused so much pain, even among innocent civilians, and I feared he would do far worse. To his eyes, these people were little more than tools, meaningless entities for his disposal. Even Ashton's crimes stemmed from the necromancer's scheme. Bitterly I wondered how many more would suffer and die while we struggled to pin him down. We hardly knew where to start, and as long as Link lay incapacitated our efforts would remain at a standstill.

"You needn't worry about your reputation here anymore, my Lady," Heather's voice broke through my troubled thoughts. "The villagers from Aboda are most grateful to you for saving their family members, and their talk has spread throughout the entire camp."

"That's…" I took a moment to look around, observing the many people watching us. They did not smile, but I could see their expressions showed more curiosity than contempt. "...I'm glad to hear it, Heather."

While I did appreciate the change, my concern for my reputation had long faded. Far more important worries occupied my mind, and in truth I felt ashamed for concerning myself with something so trivial.

Eventually the morning drew to a close, and the two of us parted ways. As usual I headed back to Goron City, eager to be with Link.

.

Upon reentering the City, I made my way down the lower levels and toward the infirmary. I often visited there to check on the wounded villagers from Aboda. The Gorons offered me quiet but sincere greetings, and I returned them with a polite nod. Sometimes I managed a smile, though it never reached my eyes.

The Resistance infirmary consisted of multiple rooms branching from a long, tunnel-like corridor, joined directly to the heart of the City. I entered this corridor to see nurses moving from room to room, the torchlight casting dramatic shadows upon their grave faces.

"Your Majesty," a middle-aged woman dressed in a plain grey dress and white apron greeted me with a curtsy. "How can I help you?"

"I've come to check on the villagers," I said. "How do they fare? Any improvements?"

"Those with burn injuries are healing quite well," she replied, "but the others—the ones wounded by those monsters that attacked their villager—they show no sign of recovery. They are awake but in great pain."

I glanced through the nearby doorway, registering the weary face of a patient lying in bed with his arm in a sling. "The medicine does nothing for them?" I asked the nurse.

She shook her head. "Miss Cleia said to give the medicine another day to start working, but she fears we might need something stronger."

I fought to keep the wave of frustration from reaching my face. "We don't have anything stronger."

"No… But the soldiers in charge of supplies know this," the nurse quickly replied. "I'm sure we'll have something soon."

I nodded, but I caught a lack of confidence in her tone, a feeling I shared. The Vandelians closely monitored the distribution of food, weapons, and anything else the Resistance would need. Acquiring supplies was a risky business, especially when fear prevented most people from helping the Resistance.

"I'm sure they will," I said, hating my own empty reassurance. "Thank you for your hard work."

"'Tis my duty as a nurse, your Majesty," she murmured with another curtsy.

By now I had drawn the attention of the other nurses, and their curious eyes made me uneasy. Surely they expected me, their Queen, to provide a solution? Again my uselessness shamed me. Reminding myself to keep my chin up, I turned to leave the corridor—only to stop when I saw Ian heading my way.

"Your Majesty," he greeted me, offering a quick bow. Always he expressed his reverence, even though I considered him more a friend than a subject. "Might I have a half hour of your time? There is something I wish to discuss with you and Elder Darunia."

"Of course," I replied. "Shall we meet in the conference room?"

He nodded. "Please. Elder Darunia is already waiting for us there."

.

Minutes later we entered the small, circular conference chamber. Darunia awaited us there as Ian said, his rough features drawn into a pensive stare. His expression softened the moment he saw me, however, and quickly he rose to give me a small bow.

"Sister," he murmured, his voice rumbling in his throat.

"Brother." I returned the gesture, and quietly we took our seats around the stone table.

"Thank you both for coming on such short notice," Ian began, straightening a stack of papers against the table. "What I hold here in my hands are the most recent reports from our sentinels posted all over Hyrule. I thought I should share this information with you right away."

Curiosity and apprehension clashed within me. "All bad news, I imagine."

"I'm afraid so," he sighed. "It should come as no surprise that Vandelian activity has escalated since your escape. Countless people have been escorted by force to the castle and interrogated, sometimes for days or even weeks. Many have yet to return. I can only assume they've been imprisoned."

I lowered my gaze as the familiar burden of guilt weighed upon my chest. "What of the families of those suspected to be involved in the Resistance?" I asked him. "Your family?"

He gave me a weak smile, supposedly to show appreciation, but I saw only worry in his face. He had a wife after all, the beautiful Ariella, and two daughters well on their way into womanhood.

"Our families remain unharmed," he murmured, "…for now. Obviously the Vandelians keep a close eye on them, perhaps hoping we'll eventually show up. But I…" Ian trailed off, shaking his head. "…I fear the day they grow tired of watching and try torture instead. But fear not, your Majesty," he quickly added, seeing my troubled expression, "my family and I knew the risks when we chose to join Link and the Resistance. We know where our loyalties lie."

Darunia thumped the table with his large fist and grunted his support. I met both of their meaningful gazes, unashamed when my watering eyes glinted in the torchlight.

"Thank you," I whispered. "You will all be rewarded for your loyalty, gods be willing."

Ian gave me a sad smile, which I returned.

"What else can you tell me?" I asked him.

He glanced down at the papers still neatly stacked before him. "To summarize, the Vandelians continue to do as they please, which includes refusing to pay for anything, harassing and threatening civilians, and even physical abuse. Fortunately they know very little about the Resistance, and we continue to operate in secret. But I fear how long it will last. We have countless soldiers scattered about the land. If just one of them were to betray us…"

"The Resistance would suffer a hard blow," I finished for him. "But we would not unravel; we've come too far. As Link has said, our strength lies in our numbers. We have no choice but to trust every member of the Resistance."

"But Link holds the whole operation together," Ian said. "The people follow him—he's recruited more people than all the leaders combined. And with his current condition…"

"Don't worry about Link," I told him gently, struggling to ignore my pounding heart. "He will recover."

But my words felt empty, and I prayed I appeared more confident than I felt. The unspoken questions of _how_ and _when_ Link would recover hung in the thickening air, but neither Ian nor Darunia dared to ask.

"Speaking of which," Ian murmured. "I have information regarding the attack on Aboda."

I met his gaze, subconsciously gripping my knees below the table.

"According to these reports," he gestured to the papers, "Aboda is the only location in all of Hyrule that suffered an attack by the undead."

I stared at him, momentarily stunned. "The dead haven't appeared anywhere else?"

"Nowhere, your Majesty."

"Ashton set a trap?" Darunia murmured, voicing my thoughts. "Lured Sister Zelda and Brother Link there, knowing they would try to help?"

"That is the logical conclusion," Ian replied. "Yet we have no reports of Vandelian interference. An earlier report from Aboda states the Vandelians were present before the first attack, but they were all killed, and no Vandelians were sent to replace them. Then, after the second attack, our soldiers managed to gather all of the villagers and bring them here before any Vandelians showed up."

"It makes no sense," Darunia murmured. "Does Ashton have such little control over his armies, living or dead?"

I laced my fingers and pressed my lips against them, painfully aware of the chill creeping through my body. This new information only confirmed the suspicions my vision had brought back in the Forest Temple. _It had been a trap. But not for me… For Link._

"I agree that those attacks were meant to be a trap," I murmured, lifting my gaze to theirs, "but I do not believe Ashton arranged them. I think this was the necromancer's doing."

The four of them stared at me, brows raised in startled concern.

"Think about it," I said. "Suppose the necromancer sent that first attack to clear away the Vandelians and draw Link's attention. Then he sent the second attack the very night Link arrived. I don't know if he meant to capture Link, but he certainly meant to hurt him."

An uneasy silence cloaked the room, broken only by the crackling torches.

"Then Brother Link is in more danger than we thought," Darunia murmured, his dark eyes meeting mine. I held his gaze but said nothing.

"What can we do about this?" Ian asked with a note of anxiousness. "Shouldn't we try to find this necromancer? Link has never sent any soldiers out to locate him… At least, not that I know of."

"Link knows that would be a waste of time—and an unnecessary risk," I said quietly. "The necromancer has no interest in fighting anyone, and I doubt any sword can overcome his magic."

_Save for one…_ Again I met Darunia's direct gaze, knowing the same thought had entered his mind. But it was irrelevant—the Master Sword would remain locked in the Temple of Time until we better understood the necromancer's plans.

"We will discuss what to do about this after Link wakes," I told them. "So far he has been the necromancer's sole target. If he knows of Link's condition he likely will not strike again soon, but nothing is certain."

The two of them nodded, and, despite their brave, determined faces, I sensed they shared my fear.

**xxxxxxx**

I returned to Link's room directly after the meeting to find Cleia unwrapping more bloody bandages from his left hand. A bowl filled with clear water sat on the nearby table, as did another smaller bowl of medicine. Clean cloths and fresh bandages had also been provided.

"I'll do that, Cleia," I said, crossing the room to soak a cloth with medicine.

"Oh, Lady Zelda, back already." She rose from the stool and stepped aside, Link's old bandages in hand. "Everything he needs should be there, but otherwise you know where to find me."

"Thank you." I sat down and gently took Link's hand, dabbing away the blood and soaking his cuts with medicine. Doing so felt mechanical, as I had lost faith in the treatment, but going through the motions helped ease my fears.

"How are you doing?" Cleia asked me.

I looked up and furrowed my brow. "How am I doing?"

She gave me a knowing look. "You're a patient of mine too, remember. Any symptoms I should know about?"

I shook my head, returning my attention to Link. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

In truth the possibility of another miscarriage haunted me more relentlessly than ever. I had become a slave to my stress by day and a victim of my nightmares by night. My nausea still persisted, as did my fatigue, but it had lessened somewhat.

"You're twelve weeks along now, aren't you?"

"Just recently, yes." I had registered the milestone with minimal enthusiasm, since I didn't look or feel any different.

"Well, you'll be happy to know the chances of a miscarriage have significantly dropped."

Again I looked up, the slightest flutter in my chest. "They have?"

"Oh yes," Cleia smiled. "Your unpleasant symptoms should also start going away, and you might find you have more energy throughout the coming weeks."

I hesitated, absorbing this information. "Thank you… That's comforting."

Inwardly, however, my pessimism lingered.I could not react with excitement, not while Link lay at death's door.

After Cleia had gone I placed Link's hand on the bed and reached for clean bandages. My fingers still touched his, holding them open while I stretched toward the bedside table. Then carefully I rewrapped his cuts, trying not to picture the way he had snatched Conrad's blade, desperate to save his own life.

After tying the bandages I lowered my head to kiss his fingers, avoiding the exposed burn marks on his hand. A few smaller burns marred his face as well, minor injuries that refused to heal despite the aloe Cleia had provided.

Link stirred, murmuring softly as I tucked his arm back under the covers. I knew not to react with excitement; he often moved but never woke. Instead I wet another clean cloth and gently dabbed his face and neck, wiping away his feverish sweat and cooling his hot skin. He softly uttered my name, his weak tone shoving daggers into my heart.

"I'm right here," I soothed, smoothing back his hair. "Don't you worry about me."

He turned his head away and murmured something incoherent, his face a mask of pain. He often wore such an expression. Half the time I expected him to cry out, but sheer exhaustion kept him quiet. Every shallow breath seemed to drain his limited energy.

"You're wasting away," I murmured, stroking his flushed cheek. "You need to wake, at least to eat something…"

But I knew he wouldn't. For three days I had listened to Cleia, watching and waiting for the medicine to take effect. And still Link slept, quietly suffering in his unnatural, comatose state. I knew he fought the darkness within him, but I feared he had fallen too deep into its clutches…

Carefully I lay my head against his chest, listening to his alarmingly slow heartbeat.

"The Resistance needs you," I whispered. "I need you… Everything will fall apart without you…"

Tears burned in my throat, but I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to release them. Crying wouldn't help anyone, not even me. _Come on, just _think_ for a moment…_

Medicine would not help him; that much was clear. Magic had thrust him into his cursed sleep, and only magic would free him…

My eyes snapped open.

_Cursed sleep._

Slowly I lifted my head, eyes wide as an idea blossomed in my mind.

_Maybe I don't need magic… Maybe I could…_

Of course it was dangerous. The darkness in Link had attacked those he tried to free from the Black Sleep, and so it would attack me too. Were he conscious, I knew Link would vehemently forbid my access into his mind.

Gently I turned his face back toward me, tracing the curve of his jaw. "You are so very strong," I whispered. "I know that better than anyone. But you are not infallible, and you're losing this fight. If there is any chance I can reach you, any chance I can help you…" I shook my head, brushing my fingertips over his chapped lips. "…I have to try."

I released a slow, calming breath and lay my hands on Link's head, my palms resting against his temples. Smothering my anxiousness and summoning my courage, I closed eyes and began to empty my mind…

"…Zelda—Zelda, _no!_"

A pair of hands snatched my shoulders, jerking me away from Link. Stunned, I looked up into a familiar face, one I'd begun to believe I would never see again. Crimson eyes, wide with uncharacteristic fear, stared into mine.

"Did you just enter his mind?" she demanded. "Did the evil touch you?"

"I… Impa?" I croaked, tears blurring her visage.

She pulled me into a fierce embrace, both of us falling to our knees on the floor. I clung to her while she rocked me back and forth, cradling me as though I were a child again. I wept quietly, struggling to believe I hadn't slipped into a dream. After so many months of painful separation it seemed she had somehow materialized in that one moment of need.

"Impa," I sobbed. "Impa…"

"Oh, Zelda," she breathed. "I came as soon as I heard you'd broken free—I'm so sorry it took me so long…"

She pulled away and took my face in her hands, brushing away my tears and pressing a firm kiss to my forehead. "I also heard rumors," she added softly, her stern face drawn with uncertainty. "That you are to be a mother soon… Zelda, is it true?"

I felt my face heat and nodded, failing to find my voice.

Her brow creased with anxiousness. "There were other rumors… about the father…"

"For the love of Nayru," I scoffed through my tears. "Ashton never touched me. You should know better, Impa."

A rare smile tugged at her lips, partly with relief, and I caught even rarer tears glistening in her eyes.

"Goddesses be praised," she whispered, stroking my burning cheek with her thumb. "In that case, I am so happy for you… How far along are you?"

"About three months," I said softly. "But Impa, I—I'm still so scared that I'll..."

"Shh, I know," she soothed, pulling me into another embrace. "You have every reason to feel that way. But you must have faith; this is the farthest you've come."

I closed my eyes and focused on her voice, letting it carry my worries away—if only for a moment.

"But what of the father?" she then murmured, pulling away to look toward Link's bed.

"He's ill, Impa," I choked. "And wounded… He hasn't woken in days, and I don't know what to do… So I—I thought I would try to reach into his mind, just to gain some direction…"

She turned back to me and tightly grasped my shoulders.

"Don't you ever attempt that again," she said, her crimson eyes boring into mine. "It's too dangerous, Zelda, especially now that you are with child."

"But what choice did I have? He'll die if he doesn't wake!"

Again she shushed me, smoothing some hair away from my anxious face. "Let me have look at him."

She turned and sat down on the stool before lifting his covers. A quick, quiet intake of breath betrayed her shock at the progress of Link's scar.

"How serious is this wound?" she murmured.

"It's killing him," I replied hoarsely. "It's infected his entire body; none of his injuries are healing. He's lost so much blood, and he's gone five days without food or water…" My voice trembled and retreated back into my throat, forcing me into silence.

Impa lowered Link's covers and reached for my wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Don't you worry," she soothed. "We'll find a way."

Then she turned back to Link, tenderly brushing back his damp hair. I watched her lay her hand on his forehead, familiar with the stance.

"What are you doing?" I asked. "You said—"

"I said it's dangerous for _you_," she corrected me gently.

I furrowed my brow, waiting for her to explain.

"Link's curse is the work of a necromancer," she said. "As the Sage of Shadow I hold some power over that. Shadow is not your element, Zelda; for you this is unfamiliar and dangerous territory."

"But I can help those inflicted with the Black Sleep," I argued. "Why can't I—"

"This is far worse than the Black Sleep," she murmured. "You have powerful telepathy, but fighting the evil within Link requires a certain kind of magic."

"Fighting shadow with shadow," I murmured.

"Something like that."

"But how is Link able to resist?"

"I'm not sure…" Impa fell silent a moment, studying Link closely. "I suspect the Triforce of Courage is aiding him somehow, responding to his resistance…"

I let my gaze fall to Link's weary face, wishing I could help with the Triforce of Wisdom. But each piece held its own properties, and I doubted Wisdom could be used to lift Link's curse. Even if it could, my inability to use magic prevented me from channeling such power in the first place.

"I'm going to try and help him wake," Impa said. "Don't be alarmed if he struggles; the darkness will fight me however it can. I won't do anything dangerous."

I nodded, but she had already returned her attention to Link. Nervously I watched her place her hand on Link's forehead and close her eyes…

He jerked under the covers, his breath escaping in short, quick gasps. I forced myself to remain still, pressing a hand to my mouth when he weakly cried out. Impa showed no sign of breaking her concentration, even as Link thrashed against the mattress, whimpering with pain. I jumped when he cried out again, squeezing my eyes shut until I heard Impa speak.

"It's no use."

I looked to see her stroking Link's anguished face, calming him. I rushed to his opposite bedside and reached for his hand beneath the covers, gently clasping it in mine.

"I can't reach him," she told me, her breathing slightly labored. "Fighting the curse and his infection has taken too hard a toll on his body. He has no strength left to heal, or even to wake."

I sank onto the edge of the bed, fearing I'd be sick.

"What can we do?" I whispered.

She sighed and smoothed back a few loose strands of her snow white hair, which she wore pulled back as usual.

"How much do you know about Link's condition?" she asked me gently.

"Almost nothing," I confessed. "He tells me nothing."

"I thought as much," she sighed. "Foolish boy…"

"How much do you know, Impa? Link says you've been researching his condition… Do you know what's happened to him?"

She hesitated, staring at the bedcovers before meeting my anxious gaze.

"I have a theory."

"Tell me," I whispered, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed so I could face her. "Every detail, Impa, please."

She nodded. "In that case I should probably start at the beginning—and by that I mean the first time I saw his scar. I actually stumbled upon him at the Fortress, while he was still recovering. The poor thing was in an awful state, struggling to separate reality whatever hell that necromancer had seared into his mind…"

She trailed off, gazing sadly toward Link. "At the time I thought the necromancer had failed to complete whatever curse he tried to cast. I thought the scar was just a residue of his black magic and that it would fade with time. I stayed with Link until he felt well enough to leave the Fortress, and during that time the scar never changed. Then Link urged me to go speak with the other sages, to tell them he lived despite all the rumors, and I did as he suggested. But had I known the truth about his scar I never would have left him."

"By the time we crossed paths again, Link had already seen you that night in Castletown, and the scar had begun to spread. It scared him so much he actually showed it to me and asked for my help. At the time I didn't know what it was, but I told him I would find out. I left him only so I could visit various libraries and talk to a few specialists, though nothing I found accurately described his condition.

"I returned to check on Link now and then, and eventually he told me what you had discovered in the desert—that day you explored the prison and encountered the necromancer. I was furious to hear he used Sheikan magic, so I delved back into my research. I also tried to track the necromancer, but that proved near impossible—"

"Impa, please tell me what's wrong with him," I burst out. "Those details can come afterward. What is your theory? You know I fear the worst—please tell me we can help him."

"Forgive me." She sighed and pressed her lips together, considering her words. "There's no way to know for certain… but after considering everything that's happened to Link, specifically the ritual itself… I believe this might be the _Khaverte d' R__efero_."

A chill crept down my spine.

"The Black Echo?" I whispered. "I've never heard of it."

"No, I should hope you haven't. It is a forbidden ritual, created by ancient Sheikan sorcerers who experimented with the power of ReDeads. In creating the Black Echo, they essentially took the Black Sleep to another level, enabling someone with the Gift to obtain complete control over their victim."

I swallowed, taking a moment to absorb this knowledge. "What led you to suspect this is the curse?"

"Originally I had dismissed it for two reasons—three if you consider no one has cast it in centuries. The knowledge was supposedly lost." She paused to draw a deep breath, her stern face softening with fear.

"Link's scar doesn't quite resemble the mark of the _Khaverte d' R__efero_," she said. "During the ritual the caster first cuts himself with a blade. It doesn't matter what type of blade, but traditionally a dagger or knife was the weapon of choice. The caster chants a spell over the dagger, supposedly enabling it to absorb his own malice, and then he cuts himself—I'm not sure it matters where. As the cut is made, his hatred is magically infused into the weapon… I'm assuming that's what gives the blade its dark color… You said you saw a black blade in your visions, didn't you?"

I nodded slowly, assuming Nabooru had told her the details from my visions.

"The caster then cuts his victim—twice," Impa explained. "He draws two intersecting lines directly over the victim's heart." She demonstrated by tracing an "X" over her own heart with her finger. "Once that mark is made, the dark energy consumes the victim and buries his soul in shadow, leaving nothing but an empty shell. This shell still lives and breathes but acts only according to the will of the one who cursed him. He is, more or less, an echo of his master."

"But Link isn't an echo," I argued, desperate to deny such a thing could happen to him. "He broke free before the ritual could be completed."

"Yes," Impa murmured, glancing down at Link. "But obviously he didn't escape unscathed. The mark continues to spread, just as the mark of the _Khaverte d' R__efero_ does. Link's mark is spreading far more slowly, since the Black Echo consumes its victim near instantly, but I fear it will eventually claim him.

"And there's something else that troubles me," she added. "It's the second reason I initially excluded the Black Echo from my list of possibilities."

"What is it?" I whispered, mentally bracing myself.

"The Black Echo can only be cast upon a soul already cursed with the Black Sleep," she said quietly. "Obtaining total possession of a living soul would be nearly impossible without it. Unless…" She trailed off, lost in her thoughts.

"Unless?" I whispered.

Her eyes met mine. "Unless he possessed a power great enough to overcome that limitation."

I stared at her, aware of the blood pounding in my ears. "Does such a power exist?"

"Yes… but it is no longer of this world… and he should not have access to it."

My eyes widened. _The Triforce of Power._

"Impossible," I whispered, looking away. "…It's impossible."

"Quite. But I have no other explanation."

I brought a hand to my head and closed my eyes, fearing I would be sick.

"So that's it?" I croaked. "There's nothing we can do? We'll just stand by and watch him descend into this darkness? Watch him suffer?"

"Of course not," she soothed. "We are not so powerless. But we can't do anything for him in this state. His wounds are infested with dark magic; they need to be purified before they can heal."

"So his wounds are keeping him asleep? Not his curse?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Honestly, Zelda, I don't know. Link's curse is so unlike anything I've encountered before. But I suspect that once his wounds are purified and healed Link should at least regain consciousness."

"Purified," I whispered. "Of course… He needs fairy magic."

"Yes. And not just any one fairy; Link needs a fountain. The question is how will we find one? I doubt you have a red fairy on hand."

"No…" I murmured. "But I can obtain one."

"Zelda, if you plan on climbing to the peak of Death Mountain…"

She trailed off as I scrambled to my feet and dashed over to my own bed.

"That won't be necessary," I breathed, grabbing my satchel from behind my pillow. Snatching the Ocarina of Time, I turned and showed it to her, my face bright with eagerness. "Not while the Desert Colossus lies a few notes away."


	34. Chapter XXXIV

AN: AT LAST, I AM POSTING THIS DARN THING. Ugh, this chapter drove me crazy, mostly because I've had a terrible creative block for the past month or so. I'm super sorry about the long wait - the next one shouldn't take nearly as long!

And thank you all for the wonderful reviews! I really appreciate it! :) I hope this chapter is worth the wait!

Oh, also, in case anyone didn't see the note in my profile, I have a Fortitude Tumblr account for updates and other stuff like art - username is ingie-fortitude. :]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXXIV

A harsh, sandy wind howled about the Desert Colossus, whipping at our cloaks as Impa and I hurried toward the base of a distant cliff. As we drew closer I spied a dark split in the rock. It grew wider as it stretched down toward the ground, creating the entrance to one of five Great Fairy Fountains in Hyrule.

Impa held her hood closed with one hand and grasped my arm with the other, helping me cross the uneven sand. I, too, clutched my hood shut, exposing only my narrowed eyes to the wind.

No one but Darunia and Saria knew of our mission. We had arranged that Darunia would watch over Link in Goron City—and cover for us—while Saria awaited our return at the Forest Temple. Once we had sorted out the details, Impa and I had teleported directly to the Desert Colossus using the Ocarina.

Exhilaration coursed through my veins. Simply taking action—action I knew would help Link—had boosted my energy and cleared my head. At last he could heal; at last he would wake.

My confidence wavered, however, the moment I reached the fountain entrance. Memories of my last meeting with the Great Fairy whose fountain lay on the castle grounds, filled my mind.

"_I bear you no ill will, blessed Keeper," _she had told me._ "But beware—soon this evil will begin to affect the land itself, and all will suffer the consequences."_

With a twinge of fear I wondered if this Great Fairy would blame Link and me for the dwindling state of Hyrule. I didn't deserve a healing fairy, but Link certainly did. Despite his constant struggles he thought only of restoring his kingdom. I prayed the Great Fairy would agree.

Less than a dozen fairy fountains existed in Hyrule, and only half contained red fairies—healing fairies. The other half contained Great Fairies, the mothers to all fairies. The Great Fairy fountains remained a secret to everyone but Link and me, but even we held no such advantage when it came to red fairy fountains. Cloaked in secrecy and protected by ancient spells, no one stepped foot inside these fountains without the guidance of a red fairy. And no one received a red fairy without a Great Fairy's blessing.

If this Great Fairy rejected my plea, Link would die.

_I won't fail. I can't._

Once Impa and I had squeezed into the narrow opening, we paused to catch our breath and shake the sand from our clothes.

"I'll wait for you here," she said. "It's probably best if you speak with her alone."

I nodded and turned toward the darkened fountain, releasing a slow, steady breath. My eyes adjusted as I approached what I knew to be a shallow pool, and carefully I stepped up onto a higher slab of stone.

Enchanted torches suddenly flared to life, illuminating a small, circular chamber of simple but elegant beauty. Pure white stone formed a trapezoidian pool for the water, and two massive triangular platorms rose up on either side, each holding a large torch. Running water flowed down the surrounding walls in a small, quiet waterfall of sorts.

The chamber itself remained empty, and the pool of pristine water lay unchanged. At my feet shone a gold insignia bearing the crest of our three arch-goddesses—the Triforce. More than familiar with its meaning, I drew the Ocarina from my satchel and brought it to my lips.

The slow, soothing notes of my lullaby echoed above the howling wind, calming my nerves. Once I had finished the melody and placed the instrument back into my satchel the torches suddenly flared, and woman's soft, pleasant laugh tickled my ears.

Then suddenly she sprang up out of the shallow pool, dramatically stretching her long arms before crossing her vine-ridden legs. There she hovered before me, her magenta hair flowing about her head as she regarded me with a curious smile.

"_Welcome, Queen Zelda, Sage of Time, Keeper of Wisdom,"_ she greeted, speaking in melodious Ancient Hylian, _"what brings you out here to my fountain?"_

I gazed up into her beautiful face, and reverently dropped down onto one knee.

"_Great Fairy,"_ I spoke, keeping my voice strong but my tone humble, _"please forgive my intrusion. I have come to beg your assistance. My husband lies ill and wounded, and our medicine cannot help him. His ailment is the work of dark magic infecting his body and draining his strength. We believe only fairy magic can save him."_

"_It grieves me to hear of the Hero's suffering,"_ the Great Fairy replied, her smile fading. _"Tell me, how did such misfortune befall him?"_

I swallowed, struggling to suppress my nerves. _"There was an attack on the small, rural village of Aboda, and he was struck down by Stalfos while trying to protect the villagers."_

"_Stalfos? A mere Stalfos sent the Hero of Time to his deathbed?"_

"_Three Stalfos," _I added humbly, aware of my trembling limbs. _"But you are right to question my words. I believe my husband faltered because… because he has been cursed."_

"_Cursed?" _The Fairy's brows rose toward her matching hairline. _"Ah, yes, I have heard whispers that a darkness festers within him. Who could do such a thing to the Hero of Time?"_

I hesitated, reluctant to share something so dark with a creature of light. _"This is the work of a rogue necromancer__. We have yet to learn his name or his full intentions. The curse was never completed, though it still torments my husband… and it has grown stronger with time."_

"_And if it claims him?"_

"_We… we cannot be certain," _I admitted, my heart sinking into a pit of dread. _"But that hardly matters if this wound kills him first. Please, Great Fairy, you are his only hope…"_

She paused, studying me with her mysterious eyes. _"You understand that fairy magic cannot lift his curse?"_

I nodded. _"I ask only that his wounds be healed, so he can wake and recover his strength. The Sages and I will deal with his curse."_

The Fairy nodded slowly, deep in thought. _"Where is he now?"_

_"In Goron City—but the fountain in the Lost Woods would be safest for him..."_

"_And you have come seeking a red fairy to guide you there."_

"_Yes..."_

"_Very well, Sage of Wisdom. Have you an empty bottle?"_

My heart skipped a beat. "Y-Yes," I breathed, forgetting to use Ancient Hylian as I rummaged through my satchel. My hand closed around the cool glass and I whipped it out, rising to my feet to show her. _"Right here..."_

The Great Fairy leaned closer to inspect it.

"_Hm, it appears clean enough. But please rinse it in my fountain, just to be sure."_

Obediently I dropped to my knees, filling the bottle with clear, glimmering water and dumping it back out. I did this three times, careful to be thorough. Then I looked up, gasping softly when I saw a little red fairy hovering just above my head. Slowly I held the bottle toward her, amazed when she willingly drifted inside. With trembling hands I replaced the cap and looked up at the Great Fairy, who now floated with her arms crossed.

"_I trust you will release my daughter at the earliest opportunity?"_

"_Of course,"_ I whispered. _"Great Fairy… how can I thank you?"_

She smiled. _"I am happy to assist you and the Hero, Sage of Time. I pray he will regain his strength, and that you will lift his curse. We rely on you both to undo the evil which plagues our beloved Hyrule."_

"_We will restore Hyrule, Great Fairy," _I said, clutching the bottle to my chest. _"I swear it."_

"_If you should find yourself wearied by your efforts," _she said gently, _"know that you are always welcome among me and my sisters."_

_"Thank you."_

Then, with a flash of light, she vanished back into the pool. I stood there a moment, still clutching the bottle to my chest as I mouthed a silent prayer of thanks. Then I heard Impa's footsteps behind me and carefully placed the bottle in my satchel.

"Come, Impa," I said, grabbing the Ocarina and turning to her with a sad smile. "Time for our Hero to wake."

**xxxxxxx**

"We'll need you to carry him, Darunia."

He, Impa, and I stood around Link's bed, discussing how we would deliver him to the fairy fountain. Saria remained back by the portal, waiting to accompany us through the Lost Woods.

"Of course, Sister." Carefully the Goron moved to slide his massive hands under Link's still form, but Impa stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Here," she said, loosening Link's bedsheets from under the mattress. "If we wrap him in this you'll only have to lift him once."

Quickly we removed his blanket and wrapped him in the white sheet, covering everything but his face.

"All right, Darunia," Impa said. "And for gods' sakes be _gentle_."

Darunia furrowed his stern brow but said nothing as Impa and I helped him slip his arms under Link's shoulders and knees. Link gave a quiet whimper as Darunia lifted him up off the bed, a fearful sound that pierced my heart.

"It's only us, Brother," Darunia murmured, looking down at Link's limp form. Worry clung to the Goron's rugged features, forcing his wide lips into a deep frown. "He is very light…"

Impa scoffed and moved to rearrange the sheet, hiding Link's face.

"For one strong as you, of course he is," she muttered. "Now let's move. Zelda, you take the lead, and remember to keep a calm appearance," she added gently.

I nodded and checked myself, donning my queen's mask before proceeding into the long, dimly lit corridor.

Nightfall loomed just a few hours away, and most Gorons had retreated into their tunnels for supper. I imagined the Resistance cooks had long begun their preparations in the kitchens. Our timing was fortunate; the City stood relatively empty at this hour, and we reached the portal with minimal stares. We never stopped to speak to anyone, though we offered a solemn nod to those we did pass, to avoid suspicion.

I passed through the portal first, then backtracked to assure Impa and Darunia the passage to the camp was clear. Then we entered the forest and hurried off into the trees, vanishing into the shadows of the darkening Woods. Saria appeared out of nowhere and slipped her little hand in mine, offering me a sad smile.

Once I felt confident we had ventured out of sight and beyond earshot, I paused and reached into my satchel for the bottled fairy. I held it with unnecessary care, as if squeezing the bottle might somehow hurt the fragile being inside. Then I popped the lid, holding the bottle outward so the fairy could escape her glass confinement. Lazily she drifted out, hovering above our heads a moment before heading deeper into the Woods. She took care to move slowly, so we could follow without jostling Link.

On and on she led us, weaving through the trees like an oversized firefly. Of course I recognized none of our surroundings, though I imagined Saria did. She walked in silence, her hand still clutching mine and her smooth brow creased with anxiousness—a feeling I shared. The fountain was Link's only chance of survival. If the fairies couldn't wake him…

My thoughts faded as we came upon clearing, which led directly into a great walled structure covered in vines—a labyrinth. Something I did recognize.

_So it's in the Sacred Forest Meadow. To think I was so close and so unaware…_

Not that it mattered. Even if I had stood directly before the fountain's entrance it would not open unless a red fairy accompanied me.

As usual the labyrinth made an intimidating sight. Tall, looming walls buried in various plantlife rose high above our heads. But the fairy proceeded without hesitation, unfazed despite her tiny size.

Twilight had fallen, streaking the clouded sky with orange and gold. A hushed wind rustled the leaves, but otherwise we heard only the ground crunching under our feet. Entering the Lost Woods always felt like passing into another world, one touched only by the wearing hands of time. Everything—Ashton, the necromancer, the Resistance—it all seemed strangely far away, as though I'd strayed into a dream. Link's voice echoed through my mind, flowing from an older memory:

"_The Lost Woods is a place of powerful enchantment... Where one person finds fear and confusion, another finds a rare sense of peace. What you experience here depends on who you are… and what lies in your heart."_

The fairy paused. My reverie dissipated, and I noticed we had reached a dead end. Still the fairy hovered there, facing the vines and waiting in silence. Anxiously we watched as she glowed brighter, then dimmer, then brighter again. The vines twitched as though acknowledging her presence, then slowly slithered aside to form a narrow gap into the wall. A long, dark tunnel stretched ahead of us, burrowing down underground.

Quickly we slipped inside, none of us finding reason to hesitate. Darunia barely fit through the opening, but he managed to squeeze through sideways, Link still cradled in his arms.

The vines resumed their original positions as we ventured into the tunnel, sealing us inside. We barely noticed. There was no turning back, not until Link had been healed.

Silently we followed the fairy, relying on her soft, rosy glow to guide us through the seemingly endless darkness. I grew increasingly anxious with each step, praying the journey back would be a happy one.

Then finally a pale light appeared up ahead, and we knew we had reached our destination. The rough, curved walls widened and met, forming a small, cave-like chamber. And there, at its center, stood the fountain.

The simple, elegant structure featured six slender columns crowned with a large stone ring. Stunning reliefs depicting the fairies' divine origins decorated the white stone. A short circular wall surrounded the fountain, rising up out of the ground to contain the shimmering water inside.

But the fountain's beauty had less to do with the architecture than the life which dwelled within it. At least a dozen red fairies hovered above the pool, lazily drifting about. Their light reflected off the water, creating gentle waves that danced along the columns and the surrounding wall. A soft, musical hum filled the air, pure as the fountain's pool.

Had I not been so anxious to place Link within that pool I might have paused to admire the rare, beautiful sight.

Silence fell over the fountain as we approached, and the fairies ceased their movements to observe us. Our guide hovered over to join her sisters, blending with them perfectly.

"_Keeper of Wisdom…" _they spoke, their melodious voices caressing my ears. Like the Great Fairies, they spoke only Ancient Hylian. _"Why__ have you come to our fountain this night?"_

_"My husband is dying,"_ I answered in a soft but steady voice. _"Our medicine cannot save him, and he will not last another day without your help."_

One particular fairy began to speak more animatedly, drawing her sisters' attention. I listened intently, assuming she was our guide, but I could not make sense of their dialect.

"_Our sister tells us you have already received our Mother's blessing. We would be honored to assist the Hero. Please, lay him in the water."_

_"Thank you,"_ I whispered, my heart pounding. _"Thank you..."_

"Lay him down here a minute," Impa murmured as I joined her and Darunia. Saria stood off to the side and watched, her young face drawn with worry.

Darunia did as she said and gently lowered Link onto the smooth stone floor. Impa pulled away the sheet so we could carefully unwrap the bandage from around Link's waist. Fresh blood oozed from his exposed wound, and through my peripheral vision I saw Saria look away.

Once I had removed the bandages on Link's hand, Darunia lifted him up again, this time leaving the sheet behind.

"Here," I said, bending down to rip off my boots and stockings, "I'll hold his head up."

Quickly I turned and knelt at the water's edge, reaching up to help Darunia. He lay Link in the shallow pool, letting his head rest on my lap.

"There," I murmured, tenderly smoothing Link's hair back. "Thank you, Darunia."

The Goron nodded and stepped away from the water as our attention turned to the fairies.

They had begun to circle above Link, observing his wound as they quietly communicated with one another. I suspected Link's scar had startled them.

"_A terrible shadow has fallen over him…"_ Sorrow plagued their gentle, melodious voices. _"A powerful curse indeed…"_

"_Yes." _I bowed my head, biting back the urge to defend Link.

"…_He has endured much pain."_

Tears stung my eyes, and I swallowed hard before gazing up at them. _"Yes."_

"_You understand it is beyond our power to cleanse him of this darkness."_

I nodded._ "I ask only that his injuries be healed."_

The fairies hummed their consent... and then they began to sing.

A sound too pure, too beautiful for words echoed about the fountain. It soothed my weary heart, suspending me in a moment of sheer tranquility. The song lulled me into sleep, but I forced my eyes open, focusing on the pool. The water glimmered like diamonds, reflecting the fairies' light as they shone brighter than ever. Gentle ripples broke the water's surface, moving in time to the song's slow rhythm.

And there, before my very eyes, Link began to heal.

I watched in amazement as his wound began to mend itself from the inside out. First the bleeding stopped, and slowly the torn flesh began to regenerate, as though days of healing had been shortened into those few minutes. Once the wound had closed the irritated skin around it regained its smooth, tanned appearance. Not even a scar remained, though the tendrils from Link's curse still marked his body. The cuts on his hand had also healed, as had the burns. His face, too, showed no sign of injury or even weariness, for the shadows under his eyes had also vanished.

Then the fairies slowly ceased their song, their last few notes echoing into silence as the glistening water grew still.

Link remained unconscious, but he lay in a calm, natural sleep, breathing slowly but steadily. I stroked his peaceful face with a trembling hand, waiting, _praying_ for him to wake…

Then he stirred, his brow slightly furrowed. I watched him take a deeper breath, barely remembering to breathe myself. Then, _at last_, he slowly opened his eyes.

He blinked a few times, registering the fairies drifting about before his gaze shifted to me. A smile split my face as I tenderly smoothed his hair, giving him a moment to collect himself.

"Welcome back, Mr. Hero," Impa spoke, and I heard a smile in her gentle voice. "Did you intend to sleep another seven years?"

Link stared up at us, still a bit dazed. Then slowly he moved to sit up. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, supporting him while his lingering grogginess faded.

"It's okay," I whispered, caressing his back. "You're safe now..."

He looked at me, his face a blend of confusion and relief.

"Zelda?" he whispered, reaching for my cheek. I could see his memory had not returned to him.

But then he stiffened and looked down with a gasp, his fingers brushing what had been torn flesh. His eyes met mine, filled with panic.

"It's okay," I whispered again, stroking his face. "We took care of everything. Don't worry…"

Tenderly I kissed his cheek and wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face against his shoulder. Link clutched me to him, slowly caressing my back as he struggled to fill the gaps in his memory.

"_We are glad to see you awake, Hero," _the fairies hummed. _"We trust you feel no pain?"_

Reluctantly I pulled away, breaking our embrace so I could help Link to his feet. Then I stepped back, letting the fairies finish what they had started.

"_None,"_ Link answered them, also in Ancient Hylian.

"_Or weariness?" _

"_None. I… I can't remember the last time I felt this… rested."_

His voice sounded unusually low from lack of use, but just hearing him speak sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. More than anything I wanted hold him and kiss him, but that would have wait.

"_Yes," _the fairies chimed. _"But what you feel is the lingering effects of our magic. We healed your wounds, but we cannot undo the long term damage you suffered while you lay ill. Your weakness, hunger, and thirst will soon return, and you will need to recover your strength."_

"_How long does he have?"_ I asked them, unable to stay silent._ "Before the magic wears off?"_

"_Until dawn, at least. We used powerful magic—even we need to rest and recover!"_ Their pleasant laughter rang about the fountain like dozens of little bells. The sound brought a smile even to Link's previously solemn face, though just barely. I watched him raise his right hand and press it to his heart.

"_Le hennaed," _he said, leaning forward in a brief bow. Such was a highly reverent expression of thanks in Ancient Hylian.

The fairies glowed more brightly in response, clearly pleased. _"We are honored to assist you, Hero. We wish you a steady recovery—and that the shadow within you may soon be dispelled." _

Link thanked them again, more quietly that time, and I suddenly I realized how exposed he was. To stand before such pure creatures while so marred by evil… I didn't need the bond to know Link's shame.

Gently I slipped my hand into his, regaining his attention, and led him out of the pool. The Sages followed behind us, closing in when I released his hand to retrieve a shirt, socks, and boots from my satchel.

"You had us all worried, Brother!" Darunia exclaimed, snatching him into a fierce hug and lifting him up off his feet.

"Darunia," Link half gasped, half laughed.

"For heaven's sake," Impa scolded, pulling on his massive arm. "We didn't revive him to have you suffocate him."

The moment Darunia released him she gave him a gentler, lingering embrace of her own.

"He's right, though," she murmured, pulling away to cup his cheek. "You gave us a real scare, Link. Though it's hardly the first time, I suppose."

I stood up, holding a long brown shirt in my hands.

"Here," I murmured, placing it over his head. Quickly he slipped his arms through the long sleeves while I straightened the garment. Then I knelt down to help him with his boots but failed to do so before Saria rushed forward to throw her arms around his waist.

"Link," she sobbed, burying her face against his shirt. "I thought I would never see you again…"

Slowly he dropped to his knees and held her to his chest. "Shh, it's okay," he murmured, stroking her emerald green hair. "I'm all right now…"

"No, you're not," she shook her head against his shoulder. "I saw that awful mark…" She pulled away to meet his gaze, her blue eyes glistening with tears. "What's happened to you, Link?"

He hesitated, then stroked her worried face. "Nothing I can't overcome," he soothed.

I watched them sadly, wondering how little he believed his own words.

"You mean nohing _we _can't overcome," Darunia said, placing his large hand on Link's head.

"Darunia's right," Impa said. "You're not alone in this, Link; you never were. And we are not leaving these Woods until we've had ourselves a good long talk."

**xxxxxxx**

"…so she gave Zelda a red fairy, who then led us to the fountain."

We sat in the Sacred Forest Meadow, listening while Impa and Darunia described the events leading up to the present. Saria sat curled up beside Link, resting her head against his shoulder. I sat on his other side, clasping his hand in both of mine.

"...And here you are," Impa finished, "awake and recovered—until dawn, of course."

Link remained silent, idly caressing Saria's shoulder as he stared toward the ground, deep in thought.

"I'm sorry I put you through all of that," he said quietly. "You saved my life and my reputation... I can't thank you enough."

"No need to thank us, Link," Impa said. "Just tell us what happened to you in Aboda."

He hesitated, his gaze dropping back to the ground.

"The other soldiers and I... we tried to keep the villagers safe undergound in their cellars. I sealed the doors with magic, to keep out the Stalfos... There were so many, so many for one small village..."

He trailed off, lost in the memory.

"And your injury?" Impa pressed—gently.

Link's head snapped up. "My injury..." He sighed and shook his head. "A group of Stalfos attacked all at once. I wasn't fast enough."

I watched him closely, waiting for him to mention the necromancer.

"A few Stalfos got the better of you?" Darunia raised an eyebrow.

Link shrugged, avoiding my intense gaze. "I'm not exactly in the best shape right now. It was a mistake, nothing more."

I released his hand, unable to believe my ears.

"You're lying," I breathed. "_He_ was there… he sent you to your knees just like that day in the desert. _He_ is the reason you were injured—the reason you nearly died!"

"Who was there?" Saria softly asked.

"The necromancer!"

The Kokiri's jaw fell open as she looked up at Link. His eyes remained fixed upon me, and I could see I had startled him.

"How do you know this?" he whispered.

"I saw it," I said, anger darkening my tone. "In a vision. The gods share more with me than you do."

He looked away, offering no reply. I could practically sense him retreating behind another wall, and I didn't know whether to scream at him or succumb to tears.

"The necromacer planned the whole thing," I said angrily. "He set a trap for you, Link!"

Aside from Link, only Saria looked stunned, as Impa and Darunia already knew my suspicions.

"You meant to keep this from me?" I accused. "From us?"

Link met my gaze, unsure what to say.

"What good would it do?" he asked me gently. "You've been through enough already."

"How can I help you if you keep me in the dark?" I demanded, my voice rising with frustration.

Impa moved to my side and put her arm around me.

"Link," she said, rubbing my shoulder to calm me, "does Zelda even know about our attempt to cleanse you?"

My attention sprang from Link to Impa and back to Link, who gave her a cross look and sighed.

"She does now," he muttered.

My gaze returned to Impa. "You tried to cleanse him?" I stammered. "When? How?"

"Not long before you met with Link in Kakariko, around the time Ashton forced you to sign the annulment. We gathered in the Chamber of the Sages and tried to cleanse him with our combined magic."

A flurry of questions swirled through my mind. "It didn't work?" I whispered.

"We managed to reverse the effects to some degree," she soothed, stroking my unkempt hair. "But we lacked the strength to lift the curse entirely. It took quite a toll on Link as well."

"So… So it's hopeless?"

"Of course not. Remember we attempted this without you, our leader. You are the strongest of us all."

"But you know I can't use magic—"

"Then we'll see what happens after the baby is born."

I shook my head, refusing to accept her words. "So Link has to suffer for six more months because of me?"

"Don't you dare start blaming yourself," Link said sharply. "Impa, this is the last thing she needs."

"She's going to agonize over you whether or not she knows the truth," Impa replied. "And she can handle this, Link. Keeping secrets only hurts you both."

I expected Link to argue, but he just looked away, rubbing his face with a frustrated sigh. Saria tentatively caressed his arm.

"Link," she asked him softly, "What happened to you in Aboda?"

He lowered his hand, staring down at it for a moment.

"...I heard his voice in my head," he said quietly. "Taunting me. Threatening me."

"What did he say?" Impa asked, concern crossing her normally calm face.

Link lifted his head, but his eyes remained distant. "He said he could give me the power to save this village... to save myself..."

"If you surrendered to him," Impa finished.

"Yes," he whispered. "And when I resisted... I think you can guess what happened."

An uneasy silence fell as we considered his words. I didn't have to guess, of course, not while my vision still haunted me.

"Is this the first time he's attacked you like this?" Impa asked.

Link slowly shook his head. "I hear his voice in my head from time to time... But he hasn't been this aggressive since he imprisoned me."

"He is growing impatient," Darunia growled. "He will push you more and more, Brother."

"I know, Darunia."

"What are we going to do?" Saria spoke up, her voice hushed with worry.

I remained silent, my hawklike gaze fixed on Link. His attention, however, remained with Impa and Darunia.

"The mark has spread quickly this time," Darunia murmured. "We should try another cleansing soon."

"Yes," Impa nodded, "though he should recover first." Then she sighed heavily and rose to her feet. "But let's postpone that discussion until we've all had some proper sleep," she said. "I'm sure Zelda has more than a few things to say to Link. You two stay here and talk out your problems. All of them, Link. I fear things are going to get worse before we end this war, and the more she knows the better."

I could see Link disagreed, but he said nothing.

"Come on, Saria," she said, taking the Kokiri's hand. You'll have to lead the way back. Link will be all right."

Reluctantly Saria let herself be pried from Link's side and up off the ground. Link, Darunia, and I followed.

"Darunia and I will meet you in your room back in Goron City. Make sure you aren't seen," she added, her eyes meeting mine.

"We know, Impa."

Impa sighed and moved closer to gently stroke Link's cheek, earning his first smile since we had left the fountain.

"Then I'll see you later. Both of you." Tenderly she rubbed my arm, and I managed a small smile as well.

"Thank you, Impa."

Darunia clapped his massive hand against Link's shoulder, and Link grasped his forearm in return, a typical brotherly gesture for Hylians and Gorons alike. Darunia then moved to clap my shoulder but paused, as though to check himself, and lightly patted it instead.

"Zelda, let me take the Sacred Water with us," Impa said. "The villagers should receive it right away."

"Of course, thank you for remembering." Quickly I pulled the bottle from my satchel, which had been filled with pristine water from the fountain—another gift from the fairies.

Then the three of them left the Sacred Forest Meadow to head back toward the portal.

Link turned to me once they had vanished into the labyrinth. I regarded him coldly, earning a sigh as he offered his hand.

"Come on," he said gently. "If we're going to argue we should probably go somewhere less sacred."

I crossed my arms. "I'll follow your lead."

He gave me weary look. "The Lost Woods is a wild and unpredictable place. Please, Zelda."

I hesitated, noticing how his other hand brushed the dagger on his belt, making sure it was there. Then grudgingly I stepped forward to place my hand in his.

**xxxxxxx**

We walked in silence for about half an hour, wandering past trees of every kind. Most were knotted and old, ancient even, but I spotted some younger, thinner trees that had somehow taken root beneath their predecessors. They had adapted to a life of limited nourishment, yet they stood proud and beautiful as the rest. They were fighters, and I admired them for it.

Finally the ground evened out as a wide gap opened amidst the trees. Even in the darkness I saw a lush and inviting bed of grass, free from thick roots and stones. Plenty of branches littered the edge of the clearing, and wordlessly Link released my hand to collect a bundle. I moved to assist him, and together we piled them at the center of the glade.

Then I stepped back while he knelt down to start a small fire—with magic, no less.

A strange calmness passed over me as I watched him, quelling my frustration. Still, his reluctance to confide in me, and his willingness to twist or omit truths left me unsettled. Since our marriage we had kept nothing from each other, and now…

The firelight illuminated Link's face as he kindled the flames, and I noticed how much healthier he appeared. He was still too thin, but his eyes shone clear and alert, free of the dark shadows I'd grown accustomed to. My pulse quickened as I admired him—he hadn't looked so well since before the war.

I turned away before he could catch me staring and stood with my back to him, hugging my arms. _It's only an enchantment_, I reminded myself sadly. I realized his good health would soon fade with the fairies' magic.

I waited for him to speak first, so when his hands suddenly touched my arms I jumped—I hadn't heard his silent approach. Gently, tentatively, he embraced me from behind, wrapping his arms around my waist. He pressed his face into the slope of my neck, inhaling slowly, deeply. A lump rose in my throat; I hadn't expected such immediate affection. Still I remained cold and unresponsive. I realized his behavior communicated genuine remorse, but I needed more solid reassurance. I needed words.

Just as I parted my lips to start the inevitable arguement, a thought suddenly struck_: is he trying to comfort me or draw comfort from me?_ I remembered the nightmares that had plagued his unnatural sleep, forcing my name from his lips again and again...

My mouth closed, and slowly I lay my hands on his arms, caressing them gently. _It's all right_, I wanted to say. _I'm here now. _But words suddenly felt intrusive, so instead I chose to share Link's silence.

Encouraged by my response, Link lifted his head and softly kissed my neck. I shivered, closing my eyes as a familiar sensation swept through me, one I hadn't felt in weeks. He kissed me again, more firmly that time, and I suppressed a moan while his lips traveled up to my cheek. I realized he was distracting me from the explanation he owed me, whether intentionally or not, but I couldn't find the will to object. Not when his breathy voice filled my ear, forming my name in that hushed, sweet tone of his... Instinctively I turned my head back toward him, and tenderly his lips caught the corner my mouth, stealing away my crumbling resistance.

In a rush of need I turned in his arms, blindly kissing him again and again. We moved with wild urgency, releasing our pent up emotions through breathless, frantic affections—myself more so than him. Link yielded to me, allowing me to control the intensity, but I felt I had surprised him with my wanton attack.

I kissed every inch of his face, denying myself breath as long as I could. Then I buried my face against his shoulder, gasping for air as I clung to him. Only after the haze began to clear did I hear my own shuddering sobs.

Link held me close as I wept, but mere seconds passed before I resumed my fervent kisses. I clawed at his shirt and pressed up agaist him, vaguely aware of the whimpers that ecaped my relentless lips. A lustful madness had seized me—I wanted him, I _needed_ him, and I could not wait.

Link had no intention of waiting. Slowly he sank to his knees, taking me down with him, though I hardly registered the change. I knew nothing but his arms around me and his mouth on mine.

"Link," I gasped, clutching his back as he lay me down on the soft grass. "Link..."

He silenced me with a deeper kiss, drawing me into the private world we'd entered, a world made only of the touch of grass, the fresh night air, and the warm firelight. And there, for a short, precious time, he and I became lost in each other, forgetting even the fireflies as they so beautifully danced about.

.

Our escape did not last long. Weariness eventually set in—mine, not his—and reality came creeping back into our senses. But we lingered nonetheless, basking in the afterglow.

We lay beside the fire, our bodies still entwined under the cloak Link had draped over us like a blanket. He lay on his back, his shirt bundled under his head like a pillow, but I lay with my head against his chest, my ear pressed to his heart.

The fairy magic kept Link awake, but he was content to lie there, idly caressing me while I difted in and out of sleep. Once or twice I felt him kiss my forehead, but otherwise he made no attempt to wake me. Time had all but stopped for us, and we wanted to keep it that way.

But as much as I enjoyed our intimate silence, it left too much unsaid.

So once more I stirred, stretching against Link and forcing myself awake. He trailed his fingers through my long hair, which he had loosened from its braid while I slept.

"Hey, you," he murmured. "How are you feeling?"

I opened my eyes and lifted my head, gazing down at his peaceful face.

"At this very moment?" I whispered, my lips hovering over his. "Almost perfect." Tenderly I kissed him, a gesture he gladly returned.

"Only almost?" he teased, stroking my hair back with a smile.

I smiled back, letting my fingertips wander his chest. "Nothing can be perfect until I free you of this," I murmured, my smile fading as my hand came to rest against his scar.

Link stiffened as sorrow crossed his features.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," he said quietly. "I didn't... I—I just..."

"You can't help being what you are," I soothed, stroking his cheek. "And you didn't know any of this would happen. But you can't keep protecting me from the truth, Link. The last thing we need is you building another wall between us."

"The last thing _you_ need is more stress," he argued gently.

I gave him a stern look.

"Link, please. If I could drag myself out of bed when I believed you were dead I can certainly handle this."

He looked at me with such sadness I immediately regretted my words. Just mentioning that time still unearthed terrible memories for both of us.

"I know you can," he whispered, bringing his hand to my cheek. "I have never, ever doubted your strength."

I held his pleading gaze, then suddenly it struck me.

"You think I'll miscarry again," I said, pulling away from him.

"Zelda—"

"So all your talk about 'feeling it in your bones' that this baby will make it—that was a lie too?"

"No, I do feel that—I swear it," he said quickly. "But I'm not taking any chances. If stress had anything to do with the miscarriage…"

"We don't know what caused it," I cut him off, shifting onto my side and turning my back to him. "It was probably inevitable."

"Zelda…" Gently Link caressed my arm. "I know you're scared too..."

"Of course I am!" I snapped, my voice breaking. "That's no reason to push me away."

He fell silent a moment, then breathed a quiet sigh. "Come here," he whispered, gently caressing my hip. "Please, darling..."

I hesitated, swallowing the lump in my throat before turning to face him. Link took me into his arms, cuddling me close.

"You know I love you," he murmured, "You're my best friend, my soul mate… Under normal circumstances I would never keep anything from you." Tenderly he stroked my hair, tightening his hold on me. "But I would do anything, _anything_, to protect our baby… even if that means keeping you at arm's length."

I shook my head and pulled back to meet his gaze, regaining my frustration.

"Watching you shoulder this burden alone hurts me far more than bearing it with you would," I said firmly. "And nothing will ever compare to the shock which preceded that miscarriage." I paused to swallow, forcing some strength back into my voice. "Especially now that I'm three months along."

Link's face softened with amazement. "Three months?" he whispered. "Already?"

I felt his hand move to my abdomen, caressing it gently.

"There's no change," I told him, a blush warming my face.

"There is," he murmured, giving me a soft, beautiful smile. "Barely… but I can tell."

"It's hardly noticeable," I said. "But it does mean the baby is stronger."

"That's wonderful," he whispered, his eyes glistening in the firelight. His joy warmed my heart, but something still weighed upon me, tainting the moment.

"We still have six months ahead of us," I reminded him. "And it kills me that I can't help you—"

He shook his head and pressed his fingers to my lips.

"I don't care about that," he said firmly. "Nothing will make me wish this away, Zelda. _Nothing_. And don't you dare feel guilty; I'm just as responsible for this child as you are."

He kissed me and pulled me closer, tenderly caressing my back. I buried my face against his throat, suppressing another wave of tears. My frustration had faded, but like a residue my shame remained.

"You must think I'm terrible," I whispered, "talking the way I do about our baby…"

He pulled away to meet my troubled gaze, compassion in his eyes.

"I would never think that about you," he murmured.

"But you already love this baby so much, and I'm just so... so..."

I felt something warm tickle my cheek, and gently Link brushed it away.

"You are recovering from a miscarriage," he said softly. "You have endured pain I will never know, and you need more time. Sweetheart, you aren't even showing yet..."

"But what if my feelings don't change?" I choked. "What if I don't bond? What if—"

"Shh, you will." He kissed away another tear, his lips lingering on my cheek. "I know because I know you."

I fell silent a moment, reveling in the feel of his hand caressing my back and his forehead touching mine.

"But what are we going to do about you?" I finally asked. "You can't go on like this…"

Link didn't answer, but I read his mind anyway.

"I understand that you can't sit idly for six months. But the necromancer is actively hunting you now, and no armor, no spell will protect you from him." I held his gaze, willing him to see the desperation in my eyes. "Link, your next mission could be your last."

He drew a deep breath and slowly released it, his hand still moving up and down my back.

"We'll discuss this with the others—the ones who already know," he said quietly. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "All right," I whispered.

Link drew me closer, holding my head to his chest. "Everything will be okay," he soothed. "I promise."

I tightened my hold on him, not trusting myself to speak.

**xxxxxxx**

Eventually we found the will to end our escapade and head back to Goron City. Dawn remained several hours away, but I wanted Link to have a decent meal and lie down to rest long before he collapsed.

Because he needed another week or so to recover once the fairy magic wore off, we planned to keep Link secret until he had regained his strength. Thus we had to return to his room unnoticed.

Once we had donned our cloaks and pulled up our hoods, Link slung my satchel over his shoulder and took my hand, leading me back toward the City. We walked in silence, our minds crowded with thoughts about the difficult road ahead—thoughts we no longer wished to discuss. I tried to focus on the fireflies and the soothing nighttime chatter, but my worries surfaced again and again.

Gently Link squeezed my hand before letting go, and my thoughts evaporated when I realized we had reached the portal. Quickly we passed through it, managing to enter the City unseen. The Gorons had all retreated into their homes to sleep, leaving the main area empty. This enabled us to descend the levels and return to Link's room without interruption.

Once we entered the small, circular room, however, we found two people already seated there.

"Thank the gods you're here," Impa breathed, rising to her feet.

Link and I dropped our hoods, and with a wave of dread I noticed Cleia's tearstained face and the handkerchief clutched in her trembling hand.

"What happened?" Link asked.

"It's Clef," Cleia choked, pressing the handkerchief to her mouth. "He's…"

"He's been captured," Impa said gravely. "Ashton intends to execute him at dawn."


	35. Chapter XXXV

AN: Meant to post this like a week ago, but I've been sick with the flu. =\ Hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for the reviews! :)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXXV

"Tell me everything you know."

Heads turned as Link strode into the conference room, his cloak billowing behind him. The leaders present—Darunia, Ian, and all seven lieutenants—gaped at his sudden appearance and seemingly full recovery. I followed after him, my heart pounding in my throat.

"General? You're—"

"Please, I'll explain everything later," Link said. "Just tell me what you know about Clef."

The leaders glanced at each other, unsure how to start.

"He went against orders," Theodus said, "though I can't blame the man. Apparently Lady Siena has been harassed by the Vandelians, and Clef couldn't stay away."

"Harassed?" I whispered, dread churning my stomach. "In what way?"

"We don't know the details, I'm afraid. Clef tried to smuggle her out of Castletown, but both of them were captured and brought to the castle—her brother Jareth too. I imagine they were interrogated, maybe worse. Siena is still there, but Clef is set to be hanged at dawn."

Slowly Link sank onto his seat, pale and pensive. I took the vacant seat beside him, struggling to maintain a calm demeanor.

"Do we know the location?" Link asked, forcing some strength into his voice.

"It's a public hanging," Simon answered, "set to take place in the Castletown market square."

"It's obviously a trap," Derrick muttered.

"It's a demonstration," Ian corrected. "Ashton aims to make an example of the captain, as a warning to all who support the Resistance."

"I doubt he's expecting a rescue," Aiden said. "He probably expects us to react boldly and recklessly. But if there was some way we could—"

"There is no way in or out of Castletown," Derrick declared. "Entering is impossible—it's suicide!"

_SMACK._

Everyone jumped when Link's palm hit the table. The stone absorbed most of the impact, making a muted sound, but the gesture surprised us nonetheless. Link rarely lost his patience.

"I don't want to hear that word in this room again." he said sharply. "If you have nothing helpful to contribute then leave."

"Forgive me," Derrick said quietly, lowering his gaze.

"I understand a rescue mission seems beyond challenging," Link said, his blue eyes moving across the room. "But it _is_ possible. Ashton was arrogant enough to arrange a public hanging, and that will be his mistake. As long as Clef is outside the castle walls, we can reach him."

My hopes stirred as I listened, and I wished I could sense his sincerity. _Can we really save Clef?_

"But how?" Aiden asked. "No one enters Castletown without proper identification—and leaving is out of the question."

"Of course it is," Link replied, "if you come through the entrance."

The leaders stared at him.

"There's another way in?" Simon asked.

"Yes," Link murmured, his eyes growing distant. "...But first there is something I must do."

He then rose to his feet and moved for the doorway. "Darunia, come with me."

The Goron wordlessly followed, leaving the others—and me—to watch with mouths agape.

"Keep this discussion going," I said as I stood from my chair. I hurried out after them, my confusion flaring into frustration.

"And just where do you think you're going?" I demanded, striding alongside Link.

"There is something I must acquire," he replied, staring straight ahead.

"And that is?"

"You'll know when I have it."

We turned onto a stairwell, ascended one level, and hurriedly Link led us back toward our room. There he grabbed his satchel and checked inside.

"I'll need a tunic, Darunia."

"I have plenty, Brother."

"Why do you..." I trailed off as the pieces fell into place. "You're going into Death Mountain Crater," I stammered. "To see the Great Fairy."

Link grabbed his belt off the table and shoved it into his bag. "Don't try to stop me, Zelda."

"Link, are you _mad?_ What if the magic wears off? You could fall to your death or collapse somewhere!"

"That is why Darunia will accompany me."

"You haven't had a drop of water in six days, and you want to go climbing around that inferno?"

"If it will save Clef, absolutely."

He answered more sharply than I expected, and I hesitated, torn between my concern for him and and my fear for Clef. I longed to go in his place, but that was out of the question.

So, unwilling to argue further, I solemnly reached into my satchel and pulled out the Ocarina.

"You'll need this," I murmured, offering it with my eyes downcast.

"Thank you," he said more quietly, taking the instrument.

Then he walked past me and out of the room without another word. Darunia placed his large hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry, Sister," he said quietly. "I will bring him back unharmed."

I nodded, and he withdrew his hand to hurry after Link. I followed a ways behind them, descending the stairs to the bottom level and entering Darunia's chamber.

Most Gorons kept their homes humble with minimal furnishings, and Darunia was no exception. A few small tables held various pots and other décor—most of them gifts—and two rugs bearing the Goron symbol adorned the stone floor. Rows of white banners, which also bore the symbol, hung from the ceiling. Just a few steps from the doorway, between two torches, stood Darunia's large statue, by far the most elaborate feature of the room. A stern, intimidating image of a Goron, one with a rather oversized head, had been carved deep into the rock. The statue served a greater purpose than mere decoration, for behind it lay a secret passage to Death Mountain Crater, home of the Gorons' great Fire Temple.

"Here, Brother." Darunia handed Link a Goron Tunic, a magical garment that created a heat-resistant barrier around the wearer. Link tossed his cloak aside and pulled the red tunic over his head.

"Please tell me you have a canteen," I said as Darunia began to push the statue aside. "One filled with water."

Link reached into his bag and pulled out his canteen, shaking it so I could hear the water inside. "I'm not careless, Zelda."

"Yes, but I know your health is hardly on your mind right now," I retorted. "Nor your safety."

He pulled the belt from his satchel and strapped it around his waist. "I'll be fine, Zelda."

I watched him tie back his hair, which, aside from his bangs, grew past his shoulders. Then I sighed and stepped closer to him, reaching up to straighten his collar.

"I'll rejoin the others," I told him quietly. "We'll try to formulate some sort of plan."

"Thank you," he replied. "Tell them I won't be long."

I nodded, my lingering hands smoothing his tunic before returning to my sides. Link then clipped his hookshot onto his belt and turned away, entering the secret passage without a second glance. Darunia gave me a curt nod and hurried in after him. I stood back, hugging my arms as they vanished into the blistering heat of Death Mountain's core.

**xxxxxxx**

The murmur of conversation quieted as I strode into the conference room, and I noticed three new faces when I approached the table. Cleia sat on a stool near the far wall, her face pale and her eyes red with tears. Impa stood beside her with her arms crossed, looking calm and stern despite her worry. The third individual—Darunia's son, whom he had named after Link—had joined Theodus and Ian at the table, presumably in his father's stead.

"Your Majesty," Theodus spoke as he, along with the other men, rose to his feet, "where has the general gone?"

"Don't worry about Link," I replied, waving for everyone to sit as I took a seat beside the elder lieutenant. "He will return shortly. Right now we must formulate some sort of plan, however basic."

"Lady Zelda," Link the Goron spoke, "I know the bigger problem is saving Captain Clef, but there is a chance he gave away information about the Resistance. Our city could be in danger—and your camp too."

I studied the young Goron, whose smooth, gentler appearance was so unlike Darunia's.

"I fear to think what would force such information from Clef," I murmured. "But Ashton certainly is capable—and more than willing, I'm afraid. If he threatened to harm Siena…"

The words, too unbearable to speak aloud, died in my throat.

"You are right to be concerned," I said more loudly. "Please do what you must to protect your people. Meanwhile we will clear every trace of the Resistance from Goron City."

I then turned to Impa and Cleia. "How are the patients in the infirmary?"

"They have already shown signs of healing," Impa replied, "thanks to the Sacred Water—and Cleia's hard work, of course," she added, giving the woman's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Can they be moved?"

"Yes," Cleia said quietly. "As long as we're careful. And we'll need tents set up for them in the camp."

"Of course," I nodded. "Impa, please see that a designated area is prepared for the infirmary. Set up as many tents as possible."

"Consider it done," she replied.

"But is the camp even safe anymore?" Ian asked.

I could see the same question troubled everyone in the room—save Impa.

"The camp is protected by an ancient and powerful magic," I assured them. "No one will find it, even if they dare to enter the Lost Woods. We're safe there; that I can promise."

This seemed to quell their fears, since no one argued further.

"Now," I said, folding my hands and looking around the room, "have we any idea how to accomplish this rescue?"

"So far we have the most obvious solution," Ian said, "so naturally it's the most likely to fail."

He paused, as if awaiting my permission to elaborate.

"Go on," I said calmly.

"We enter Castletown unnoticed and blend with the crowd gathered in the square. Then we create some kind of diversion—one great enough to let us to snatch Clef and flee."

"Obviously there are a few glaring obstacles," Theodus remarked. "We don't know how to enter unnoticed, since Castletown has only one way in, which none of us can take."

"We also don't know how to cause a diversion large enough to save Clef," Derrick added. "And even if we succeeded, the Vandelians would surely pursue us."

I sat listening in silence, my chin resting against my laced fingers.

"Indeed, it does sound impossible," I murmured. "But we have something the Vandelians don't."

Again my eyes traveled the small room, inviting them to reach the conclusion themselves. But no one dared to guess.

"Magic," I said, lowering my hands. "Magic will enable us to save Clef."

I was met with raised brows, but I could see some uncertainty remained. Few Hylians had the Gift after all, and everyone knew such power held its limitations as well as its consequences. For most Hylians, magic remained both an intriguing and daunting concept.

"Whomever we send on this mission will enter Castletown by teleportation," I explained. "This will be done through a magical device I can provide. As for the diversion…" I paused to think a moment. "…If we could temporarily blind the Vandelians sonehow... without harming the civilians…"

"Smoke Stones," Impa spoke.

I looked up at her, maintaining a calm expression despite my surprise.

"They would provide a harmless distraction," she added, "enough to snatch Clef out of danger."

"That's brilliant," I replied, "but do we have any?"

"I always carry some with me," Impa said, moving toward the doorway. "I'll check my stock."

"What are Smoke Stones?" Aiden inquired.

"Sheikah magic," Ian answered.

"Yes and no," I said. "Smoke Stones are a Sheikan invention, but they require no magic. It's more trickery than magic. I'll demonstrate for you if I can."

Moments later Impa rushed back into the room, her traveling bag in hand. "I've got some," she said, slowing to a stop. We watched her reach into her bag and place a handful of what looked like pieces of coal onto the table.

"How many?" I asked.

"Half a dozen, maybe more," she replied, fishing a few more from her satchel. "It should be enough for the mission."

"Good. Can we spare one for a demonstration?"

"One less shouldn't matter," she replied, grabbing the nearest stone. "I can do it."

I nodded and rose from my seat. "Gentlemen," I addressed our audience, "please follow us."

We filed out of the conference room, Cleia included. Grabbing a torch off the wall, I quickly led them up three levels and outside onto a ledge facing east—away from Kakariko Village. There I held an arm out, halting the group while Impa kept walking.

"You'll want to keep your distance," I warned them.

Silently we watched as she walked toward the edge of the cliff, visible only by the torchlight. She paused to cover her nose and mouth with the inside of her tunic, then raised her arm and threw the stone down hard against the ground. The object exploded into a massive black cloud, swallowing Impa entirely. She quickly reappeared, however, running back toward us while the smoke slowly expanded and lingered before rising up into the night sky.

"Excellent," Ian murmured.

I turned my back to the cloud, relieved to see their stunned faces in the torchlight. "Not only is the cloud effectively thick and dark," I informed them, "but those who do not shield their faces will be temporarily overcome with coughing fits. Setting off multiple stones at once should create the distraction you need without causing any serious harm."

.

When we returned to the conference room I was heartened to see Cleia appeared more alert, almost hopeful.

"This is all very well," Theodus spoke, rubbing his forehead, "but we still have no means of a clean escape. Without that everything falls apart."

Silence followed, but I knew the others shared my determination.

"Maybe we could flee, perhaps into a nearby shop or an alley," Aiden suggested, "and then teleport the same way we arrived?"

"I have a better solution."

Everyone, myself included, looked up as Link reentered the room, Darunia close behind him. As always my heart rose at the sight of him, especially when I noticed the clear, diamond-shaped crystal in his hand. A relieved smile tugged at my lips. _This just might work…_

Still wearing his bright red Goron tunic, Link approached the table and placed the crystal at the center for everyone to see.

"What is that?" Aiden asked, moving closer for a better look.

"This," Link replied, "is a portal stone. I have three more in my bag. With this I can cast a spell and create a portal anywhere of my choosing. Doing so will activate the stone. Then, when someone presses this symbol," Link pressed his thumb against a raised insignia—a tiny circle followed by two crescents, "…the stone will instantly teleport anyone to that very spot."

The men stared at him, supposedly amazed such magic lay in our possession.

"Truly?" Aiden breathed.

Link nodded. "Obviously this power must have its limitations. Once activated, portal stones remain effective for no more than twenty-four hours, and they can only be used once. Once the user teleports, the stone disintegrates. This gives us plenty of time to rescue Clef, and we only have one chance anyway, so neither restriction poses a problem.

"But this only solves the escape," Link added, his eyes meeting mine. "Have we made any other progress?"

"We have," I answered. "Whomever goes to Castletown will enter unnoticed by another means of teleportation, which I will explain later. Once they have blended in with the crowd there, Smoke Stones will be used to cause a distraction large enough to grab Clef. Our plan has its risks, but with the portal stones I'm confident we can succeed."

Link raised his brow. "Smoke Stones," he murmured. "That should work... if we have enough."

"We do. All we need now are three volunteers," my voice grew louder as I looked around the room. "Two will cause the distraction from either side of the square, and one will press a portal stone into Clef's hand. Link can do neither, as he is unable to participate in this mission."

All eyes moved to Link, whose gaze remained with me. I saw no anger in his face, however. He had promised to tell them the truth, after all, and that moment was as good as any.

Then he sighed quietly, letting his eyes move to the others.

"She speaks the truth," he said. "My recovery is temporary. I will lose my strength by dawn, and that would jeopardize the mission."

"How is this possible?" Ian asked, worry creasing his forehead. "How is your recovery complete but your strength temporary?"

Link waved a dismissive hand. "I will explain everything at a later time. Right now Clef needs three volunteers."

The silence lasted only a few seconds before Aiden spoke. "I will go," he said loudly, stepping away from the wall.

"And I," Theodus said, rising from his seat.

"And I," Ian echoed, standing as well.

A small but appreciative smile warmed Link's face. "Very well then," he said gently. "Let's get you three prepared."

.

The final preparations did not take long. We found Ian, Aiden, and Theodus finer clothes, complete with newer cloaks, to help them blend with the crowd we knew would gather in Castletown square. Impa and Link had then taken the three of them to the Sacred Forest Meadow, bringing with them the Ocarina of Time. We had told them nothing of the Ocarina's true importance but assured them the song would teleport to the Temple of Time. They knew better than to ask questions.

Then Impa had played the Prelude of Light thrice, each time bringing a volunteer with her. There she would remain, watching over them to make sure nothing went amiss. Eventually she would return to the Forest alone. Saria would lead her back to the camp, since Link had gone to wait by the portals he created with the stones. Cleia had chosen to remain in the camp, busying herself to keep her panic at bay.

And so the waiting had begun.

Having done all I could for Clef, I turned my attention back to Link. He still hadn't eaten anything, and I feared how little time he had before the magic wore off. His health had become the least of his concerns, but I would not let him starve.

I had left his side to prepare a warm meal in Goron City—now abandoned since all of our supplies had been moved back into the camp. I had gone alone, too anxious to ask for anyone's assistance—even Heather's. No one in the camp knew about Clef, and I wanted to keep it that way as long as possible.

After preparing a quick meal of sausage, hard-boiled eggs, bread, and cheese, I refilled Link's water canteen and returned to the Lost Woods. I moved away from the camp and into the darkened trees, guided by four green lights in the distance—the portals Link had cast.

He sat against a tree, his knees drawn up toward his chest and his arms wrapped around them. His cloak hung from his shoulders, pooling about him on the grass. I knew he had sunken deep into his troubled thoughts, since he failed to notice my presence until I knelt down at his side.

"Zelda, I can't eat that now," he said quietly.

"You have to, Link; you know that."

"I… I don't think I could keep it down."

He lowered his gaze and tugged his cloak closer about his shoulders. I studied him a moment, suppressing a painful twinge of sympathy. Then gently I cupped his cheek, bringing his gaze back to mine, and the glow of the portals illuminated his solemn face.

"I know this is hardly the time to force you," I said softly. "But you haven't eaten in six days, and you cannot let yourself starve. Try to eat it slowly… please?"

He hesitated, then nodded with a sigh. Relieved, I settled down beside him and took the plate I had prepared for myself. I, too, had failed to eat a decent meal since I returned from the Great Fairy fountain earlier that day.

We ate in silence, both too anxious to bother with conversation. Then, thrusting the last of the bread into Link's hand, I returned the empty dishes to the camp, topped off the water canteen, and hurried back to Link.

"Try to keep sipping this," I murmured, handing it to him.

He took it and allowed himself a drink while I sat down beside him. I glanced at him as he capped the canteen, noting how his face betrayed no sign of the fear I knew festered within him. Of course I shared that fear, but Clef had been Link's close friend and comrade for nearly ten years.

After the death of Captain Shayne, Link's mentor and sole father figure, Link had struggled with his grief, preferring solitude over the time he once spent with his fellow soldiers. I had been the first person he opened up to, but Clef had been the second. Being several years older than Link and his usual friends, Clef provided the mature friendship Link needed. He and Siena had supported Link when I couldn't, which, due to our forbidden relationship, had been more often than I wished. In fact, Clef had been the second person Link trusted enough to tell about his feelings for me—Captain Shayne had been the first. Losing Clef or Siena… I couldn't bear to think about it.

Gently I lifted my hand to rub slow, soothing circles along Link's back. I felt some tension leave him at my touch, but barely. Neither of us bothered to speak; there was nothing to be said.

Then I took his hand in mine and bowed my head in prayer, knowing he would do the same.

**xxxxxxx**

Seated in his throne-like chair upon a stage rising high above the crowd, Ashton watched the scene below with quiet anticipation. A sea of people, clothed in dark garments of mourning, stood talking in hushed voices. Many cast fearful glances up toward the young king, others a dangerously hostile glare. For that morning, there at the crack of dawn, countless men and women—but no children, Ashton noticed—had gathered to witness the execution of the traitor, Clepharas Bard.

Within moments Vandelian soldiers would tow the large man in a cart to the gallows, which Ashton had constructed specifically for that momentous day.

The captain had been imprisoned for some time—he and his wife had been arrested when soldiers discovered them trying to sneak out of Castletown. Bard had put up quite a fight, but his wench had wisely surrendered with minimal resistance. The two had been separated, of course. The woman Ashton sent straight to the dungeons, but the captain had been thoroughly questioned. His silence had led to more severe interrogation—Ashton himself had led most of the sessions. After hours of torture and no results, Bard caved only when Ashton threatened to harm his wife.

He had pled for Ashton's mercy, insisting she was innocent, uninvolved. He begged with such desperate emotion Ashton had found himself disgusted. How the man could become so enslaved to one person—one _woman_—Ashton could not fathom.

"_We have no base_," Bard had pleaded, his voice quivering with fear. _"Our leaders… we never stay in one place long, a-and our members remain scattered about the land—people I've never met. The general put me in charge of supplies—I've smuggled most from neighboring kingdoms… I never stay in Hyrule long… I only came back to see my wife... I don't know where the queen is; I swear…"_

For a while Ashton had refused to believe him. He fed him false information about his wife's suffering, though in reality she remained in her cell, ill but untouched. In his desperation Bard finally claimed Zelda had been taken into Gerudo territory, but Ashton knew it was a lie. Some of his best soldiers had set up camp just outside Gerudo Valley, but they could go no further. The bridge across the gap which separated the Valley from Hyrule Field had been severed, and the Gerudo fired at anyone who dared to approach. The Hylian territory across the gap was small and encased by tall cliffs, making it a deadly trap for Ashton's men. The Valley was untouchable, even for Zelda—unless of course she used some kind of magic...

Not that it made any difference. If she had indeed fled to those desert whores, Ashton could not reach her.

Of course his soldiers had scoured every other inch of the land but with no results. Every lead, every search had brought nothing but dead ends. No doubt she had found her way back to her filthy peasant, and the scum knew every crevice in the kingdom. No doubt she had shared her little secret…

Ashton's fingers gripped the armrest of his chair, digging his nails into the polished wood. He could almost hear the clock ticking in his head, counting down to the day she bore the child which surely grew within her… _His _child…

Despite Ashton's fury over Bard's apparent ignorance, his claims had made sense. Ashton suspected the Resistance remained scattered and unorganized. In fact he considered them little more than a nuisance, something to be stamped out like insects under his heel. But until Zelda had been returned to him, and until her lover was dead, Ashton would show no mercy.

Thus he had decided to execute the captain, to demonstrate that treason would not be tolerated under his rule. Anyone who dared to aid the Resistance would surely think twice before committing the same crime, even on the smallest level. Bard would not be the last to die; for the executions would continue until Zelda returned. Ashton hoped she would come at her own will, simply to end the bloodshed.

The king's thoughts quieted when the noise below suddenly ceased, for the prisoner had finally come into view. Following a small parade of soldiers, Bard entered the market square in a small cart, his hands and ankles bound. He sat with his back to the horse, his head hung so low that his dirty, unkempt hair concealed his face. He looked utterly beaten, both in body and spirit, and his tattered, filthy clothes hung on his bent form.

Resting his chin on one hand, Ashton regarded the man with mild intrigue, remembering everything he'd learned about him. _Pitiful creature. To think he had once been a strong and well respected captain…_

Anxiously the crowd watched on, whispering amongst each other. No one dared to address Bard directly, and he showed no sign of acknowledging them.

_Take a good look, peasants, _Ashton thought. _Turn against me, and that noose will mark your necks._

Once the cart had reached the gallows, the soldiers forcibly removed Bard and dragged him up the few steps onto the platform. The market square fell hushed with suspense, though Ashton relaxed in his chair, watching intently.

Bard was so weak he failed to stand on his own. Two soldiers had to support him while an attendant read his crimes aloud to the crowd:

"The accused, formerly Captain Clepharas Bard of the Royal Hylian Army, stands charged with high treason and conspiracy against his Majesty, King Ashton…"

Several people dared to shout out their protests, but Ashton paid them no heed. Vasilis himself had vehemently protested the execution, and that, too, had failed to change the king's mind.

"_You are responsible for a war that ravaged our kingdom for five long years," _the minister had argued._ "You came here claiming to be a merciful conqueror, and yet you rule with intimidation and negligence. Your lack of control over your barbaric soldiers has all but torched the people's trust in you. Captain Clepharas Bard is a public figure well loved by the common people. A public execution hasn't been done in decades; reviving such a horrid tradition to end this man's life will only expose your thirst for revenge and jeopardize your rule."_

But Ashton had proceeded with his plans, unfazed by the minister's heated tirade. He knew the people would not dare rise up against him, not while an army of the dead stood at his command.

And learning that Bard was a close friend of Link's had only solidified the king's decision.

Once the attendant had finished, the executioner—garbed, masked, and hooded in black—placed the noose around Bard's neck and tightened the knot. The soldiers released his arms, forcing him to stand on the trap door while the executioner reached for the lever...

"_Now!_"

An explosion struck Ashton's ears, and the next thing he knew a great cloud of smoke had consumed half market square, cloaking the gallows in a thick grey mist. Everywhere screams of panic turned to fits of coughing as everyone struggled to flee.

"SEIZE THEM!" Ashton shouted, jumping from his chair and gripping the nearby rail. "SEIZE THEM, YOU—" He broke off and dropped to his knees, violently coughing as the cloud rose to his level and entered his lungs.

Of course it was useless. He knew that when the smoke finally cleared, Bard would be gone, as would the traitors who had come to his rescue. The Resistance had claimed the victory, leaving Ashton in public humiliation.

**xxxxxxx**

It all happened so fast.

Link and I had sat waiting and praying for what felt like an eternity. Streaks of pink had begun to streak the violet sky, and as the day grew brighter the tension grew stronger.

_Something is wrong_. Such thoughts assaulted my mind again and again. _They should be here by now…_

Then a flash of green disrupted the silence, and suddenly he was there, lying on the ground with Aiden leaning over him. Two more flashes later, Theodus and Ian had joined them.

"Clef," I breathed, my eyes brimming with tears. Link was already at his side, cutting his bonds and checking for serious injuries. Then Aiden hooked his arms under Clef's shoulders while Ian grabbed his legs, and together the four of them helped carry Clef back into the camp.

I followed, seeing then how battered and weak Clef appeared. He seemed only half conscious; how he had stood to face his death, I could not fathom. Then I hurried ahead of them, leading them toward the infirmary Impa and Cleia had set up on the edge of the camp.

"Clef!" Cleia cried, rushing over to us. "Sisters be praised! Clef!"

She ushered us into a smaller tent, where Link and the others carefully lowered Clef onto the single bed. Cleia then forced the men back outside so she and I could tend to him.

First we removed his tattered clothes, and I washed most of the dirt from his skin and hair while Cleia treated his many cuts and bruises. Back at the castle I had never been allowed to tend to anyone in this manner. Only after the healers had cleared away the blood, dirt, and grime could I tend to our fallen soldiers. I, however, was more than willing to dirty my royal hands, especially for a friend like Clef.

Our attention seemed to help him wake, as he began to murmur and eventually blinked his eyes half open.

"Cleia…?" he croaked, gazing up at his sister.

"Shh," she soothed, sweeping his tangled hair back from his face. "You're safe now… Zelda, hand me the water, please."

I poured a glass from the pitcher on the nearby table and handed it to her, watching as she helped him take a long drink.

"There," she murmured, dabbing some spilled water from his chin with her apron. "Everything is all right now…"

But her words brought him no comfort.

"Siena," he struggled to say, "is she here…?"

"No, dear," Cleia said gently. "Just you… We rescued you from Castletown… from your execution; do you remember?" She took his large hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Clef, I really thought we'd lost you…"

I took his other hand, which felt alarmingly cold, and gently stroked it. This drew his attention, and he turned his head toward me.

"Zelda," he rasped, "Where is Link?"

"He's just outside," I said softly. "Shall I bring him to you?"

"Please…"

I nodded and left his side, moving to draw back the tent flap. Outside Link and the others stood in a loose cluster, silent but clearly anxious. They all snapped to attention when I appeared, waiting for me to speak.

"Link," I called quietly, "he's asked for you."

He came forward, not bothering to mask his concern as he entered the tent. I stood back while he approached Clef's bedside, though Cleia remained on the opposite side.

"Clef..." Gently Link took his friend's weakly extended hand, grasping it in both of his.

"Link," panic filled Clef's ragged voice, "Siena… she's still at the castle?"

Link swallowed, considering his words. "I can't say for sure," he said quietly. "We've heard nothing more about her since your arrest."

"She's ill," Clef choked. "Trapped in that horrible cell… The gods only know what they'll do to her…"

He broke off into hushed, broken sobs, and my heart wrenched with empathy. _Siena…_

"…I tried to get her out of there, but I… I failed, and then… I'm so sorry…"

Link placed a hand on Clef's shoulder.

"We'll get her back," he said firmly. "I swear it. We will make this right. You just rest, focus on regaining your strength. I'll worry about the rest."

Clef stared up at him, looking as though he wanted to say more. Then his head sank back onto his pillow as he tightly closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "So sorry… My Siena…"

Then his body went limp as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

Link stood there a moment, drawing a few unsteady breaths while Cleia drew the covers up over Clef's shoulders. I could see something unraveling in him, but whether it was the fairy magic or his own composure I couldn't tell.

Then he nodded to Cleia and promptly left Clef's side, pushing the tent flap aside to step outside. I followed, watching him closely.

Once more the other leaders straightened, looking to their leader for an update.

"Clef will be all right," he assured them. "His wounds are minor and will heal soon enough. He is resting now, and he won't have any more visitors until Miss Cleia permits it."

Glancing down, I noticed his hands were trembling. Fearing the fairy magic had indeed begun to leave him, I gently placed my hand on his back, ready to support him if need be.

"The rest of us will follow up in a meeting at a later time," Link added, his voice betraying his weariness. "...Try to get some rest in the meantime."

Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away. I went with him, wrapping an arm around his waist before he could stumble.

"This way," I said gently, bringing his arm up around my shoulders.

I led him toward the tent I had prepared for the two of us. It stood in a more secluded area, as we hoped to keep him a secret from the camp until he had properly recovered.

Link stumbled twice before we reached the tent, and once inside he collapsed onto the bed. Quickly I moved to remove his boots, helping him find a comfortable position before covering him with a heavy blanket.

"Zelda," he said weakly, reaching for my hand before I could grab a stool. "I can't just lie here… We're running out of time… Siena is—"

"Shh," I soothed, kneeling down at his bedside. "You can't do anything for anyone until you regain your strength." Tenderly I smoothed his hair back away from his forehead. "Just rest now..."

"But I can't…" His voice strained with emotion he could no longer suppress. "What if I've lost too much strength...? What if… What if I…" He trailed off, too exhausted to finish.

"I'll work with the leaders in your stead," I assured him, gently rubbing my hand along his chest. "We'll do everything we can. But right now you need to rest."

I leaned down to kiss his forehead, then his cheek, and when I lifted my head his eyes were closed. While he did not appear peaceful, his troubled face had at least softened with sleep. I drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly as I mouthed a silent prayer of thanks.

Yet Link's broken, fearful words lingered in my mind, leaving my spirit unsettled. Saving Clef had been a victory over Ashton, but the war was far from over. I had no idea what our next move would be, and I feared Ashton would strike back with a vengeance. _And Siena…_

I closed my eyes and shook my head, unable to think about it. If not for my condition, I would race to the castle and clamp Ashton's chains back around my wrists, just to free her.

With both Resistance leaders down, the necromancer still lurking in the shadows, and Ashton no doubt ready to unleash his undead army, our good fortune seemed all but spent. And, having entered the autumn season, winter loomed only a few months away. Soon the camp would cease to be a sanctuary; even Link knew that. Surely he had a plan in mind…?

I sighed and gazed down at his sleeping face, unsure which I feared more: the lack of a solid plan, or one Link had declined to share with me.


	36. Chapter XXXVI

AN: Gah, I have to find a way to finish these chapters more quickly. Feels like forever since I posted the last one. I mean, it is a hobby, and I do have a life, but still. Anyway, I hope this was worth the wait!

Thank you everyone for your super awesome reviews - your feedback keeps me inspired! :D

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXXVI

_He walked the darkened corridor with calm, steady strides, unfazed by his eerie surroundings. Darkness hung in the air like a black fog, filling every crack in the old stone walls. Small, sparse torches lit his way, their dim flames barely visible. It was a wonder he could see at all._

_The figure himself blended with the shadows, being hooded and cloaked in black. His quiet footsteps broke the silence again and again, though somewhere, perhaps several rooms away, mysterious sounds echoed through the walls. A muted crash, a long, distant wail… Surely this place was cursed._

_The man pressed on without hesitation, rounding a corner before he slowed to a stop. _

"_Have you brought what I asked for?" a familiar voice spoke, dark and sinister. _

_I watched the necromancer emerge from the shadows, suppressing the rage his mere visage brought. He, too, stood hooded and cloaked, though he moved as though one with the darkness. _

_The other man sank onto one knee, head bowed. _

"…_I have, Master."_

_Shock jolted my senses, and for a moment I refused to believe my ears._

"_Show it to me."_

_Link reached into his cloak and pulled out the Ocarina, offering it to the necromancer._

_"Place it before me."_

_He did so, and his hands vanished back into the folds of his cloak._

"_Now tell me where the Stones are."_

_Link hesitated, and I drew in closer, desperate to see his hooded face. Slowly he lifted his head, raising his eyes to the man he called master…_

A startled cry jerked me awake, and immediately I sat up, turning toward the bed on the opposite side of the tent. There Link writhed against his sheets, moaning incoherently. Thrusting my dream to the back of my mind, I threw off my covers and rushed to his bedside.

"Link," I called to him, grasping his shoulders and shaking him gently. "Link, please wake up…"

But he continued to thrash about, gasping for breath between each pained whimper. Fear clawed at my insides, and I suddenly recalled that day in the desert, when we came face to face with the necromancer. Link had suffered a similar attack...

"Impa!" I tore from Link's side and grabbed the tent flap. She lay in her bedroll just a few steps away, preferring to watch over us from outside.

"Impa!"

She jerked awake and immediately sat up. "Zelda? What's wrong?"

"It's Link," I said, grabbing her wrist as she climbed to her feet. "He's having some kind of attack."

She followed me without question as we rushed back to his bedside. He still thrashed about, his hands clutching his sheets, but neither of us tried to hold him down for fear of harming him. Impa placed her hands on his head and closed her eyes, trying to reach him through the darkness cloaking his mind.

Only a few seconds passed before she opened her eyes and pulled her hands away. Link did not cease his struggles.

"Impa—"

"There's nothing we can do but wait," she murmured. "It will pass."

Helplessly we stood by, watching as Link fought the evil within him. He struggled for an alarmingly long time, longer than I could bear.

"Impa, please—"

Then suddenly the Triforce symbol on Link's hand began to glow, illuminating our anxious faces. It shone brightly for a few seconds, and as the light faded his movements began to slow. Finally he lay still—save the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His hair clung to his damp forehead, and tentatively I smoothed it back with a trembling hand.

"What just happened to him?" I whispered. "The necromancer, he can't possibly be here..."

"I doubt it," Impa assured me. "I've seen this happen before. The curse has grown too strong, and Link is struggling to suppress it. I imagine his poor health causes additional strain... He must have faltered somehow, and the evil within him seized the chance to dominate. But Link fought back, and it seems he's regained control... for now."

"The Triforce responded to him," I murmured, "just like it did the day he escaped..."

Impa nodded. "I imagine it has been aiding him all this time."

"But Link can't control it," I reminded her. "The Triforce of Courage responds to his own strength."

We fell silent then, gazing down at his weary face. I wanted to believe that as long as he fought to resist the Black Echo, Link would survive long enough for us to free him. Deep down, however, I knew he was only mortal. Even if his spirit could resist, his body could only endure so much.

Judging by the look on Impa's face, I knew she held a similar fear.

"These attacks happened more and more frequently until we performed that first cleansing," she told me. "He also developed near constant headaches. Some were so painful they left him incapacitated… I fear those will also start again soon."

I looked at her, trying to ignore the dread swelling within me.

"Impa, we need to perform another cleansing. Tomorrow."

She shook her head. "That's too soon. He needs to rest and regain his health."

My heart sank. "For how long?"

"Three days at least."

"You expect him to lie here and suffer for three days?"

"I won't risk another cleansing until he's stronger. It takes too great a toll on his body. He was in much better condition last time, and it still put him out for a few days."

I fell silent, finding no desire to put him at risk.

She turned to me then, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"I don't like it anymore than you do," she soothed, "but he should sleep through most of it anyway."

I shook my head. "Not if the pain is that intense."

Impa sighed. "We'll do everything we can for him," she assured me. "He's resting now, and you should too. Link wouldn't want you fretting at his bedside in the dead of night."

"I want to stay with him a little longer," I murmured, sinking down onto the stool and resting my arms on the bed.

"If you must," she said softly. "But don't stay too long."

"I won't."

"I'll be outside if you need me." Gently she stroked the back of my head, smoothing my unkempt hair. I concentrated on her familiar touch, letting it calm me.

"Thank you, Impa."

Then silently she left the tent, and I turned my attention back to Link. Lightly I stroked his hand, warming it with my own as I listened to his slow, steady breaths.

"I would do anything to help you," I whispered. "To see you well again… But everything grows worse and worse..."

I feared how much more he could take. I feared the curse would claim his life.

_Or his mind..._

Reluctantly I considered the dream I had glimpsed before Link's attack. I knew it had been a vision; I had seen everything far too vividly for a mere nightmare. But that did not mean such a scene would come to pass... did it?

"Never," I murmured. "You're stronger than that."

Yet I could not easily dismiss the image of Link kneeling before his tormenter, offering the very item he had sworn to protect. What more would I have seen, had I not woken? Had the gods sent me a warning?

_He is only mortal..._

Again my gaze fell to Link's face, and inwardly my logic wrestled with my emotions. No one held more faith in him than me, but I knew better than to ignore my visions.

Thus a small fragment of doubt forced its way into my heart, spawning an unfamiliar and unwanted feeling.

**xxxxxxx**

I arranged to meet with the leaders the following morning. We had agreed to assemble in Goron City as usual, away from any eavesdroppers in the camp.

Obviously Link could not attend the meeting, so I headed there alone, taking the opportunity to clear my head and organize my thoughts. Above me the autumn sky loomed grey and bleak, though the changing leaves brought a vibrant touch of color here and there.

_September already. Link will be twenty-five soon... _

For all we knew he already was. Knowing Link's actual birthday was impossible, since we knew nothing about his origins. Saria had always celebrated it on the day she found him and his mother in the Lost Woods—the day his mother had died.

As a child I had always thought it too sad a day to celebrate his birthday, mostly because my own mother had died giving birth to me. I had always detested my birthday for that reason, though the feeling had faded in my adolescent years.

_"Saria doesn't see it that way,"_ a much younger Link had told me. _"She says dying to save the life of another is the ultimate act of love. So she chose that day to celebrate my life and to honor my mother for giving me my life."_

_"Do you agree with her?" _I asked him.

Link had hesitated, lowering his gaze as he dragged a stick through the dirt.

_"I am grateful that my mother saved me," _he murmured._ "She was very brave, and she loved me very much... but I still wish I had known her. My father too. I know I can't remember them... but I miss them."_

I had taken his hand and gave him a sad smile.

_"I know what you mean."_

Sharing the pain of losing one's parents had strengthened our bond as children, but our personal grief remained. Impa and Saria had filled our lives with happiness and love, but they could never close the void our parents had left—not entirely.

My thoughts returned to the present, to the child I would soon bring into the world. Gently I rubbed my belly, wanting to reassure the tiny life inside. _You will never know that pain. Your father and I will raise you together._

It was hardly a promise I could make, but I would do everything in my power to keep it.

Even if that meant protecting Link from himself.

.

The leaders had already assembled by the time I entered the conference room. As always they rose to their feet and greeted me with reverence. I waved them back into their seats, wishing they wouldn't bother. Nothing about my appearance suggested royalty. My simple blue dress with its faded floral pattern was hardly the typical garment of a queen. My hair, however, did appear more suited for a lady. Impa had sat me down to brush it and pin it up, insisting I abandon my usual braid.

_"You have no reason to go around looking like Sheik,"_ she had scolded, making me feel like a young tomboy again. _"That was necessary once, but now you are Queen, and your appearance must serve as a constant reminder of that. The people expect it of you."_

I still thought I looked like a peasant girl with too fancy a hair style, but I had kept this to myself.

Impa had not attended the meeting, having stayed back in the tent to watch over Link. Cleia had also remained in the camp with Clef. Even with four leaders absent, Darunia, Ian, and all seven lieutenants quickly filled the small conference room.

Once those who chose to sit had taken their seats, I folded my hands on the stone table and paused to register their attentive faces.

"Thank you all for coming," I began, my voice solemn but strong. "Link will not be joining us today, though that should not surprise you."

"Is he ill?" Aiden asked from his place near the wall.

I paused, reconsidering the immediate "no" I meant to say. I could feel the watchful eyes of Ian, Theodus, and Darunia, as they all knew the truth about Link's condition.

"Yes," I said softly, pausing to swallow the lump in my throat. "He is very ill… but it's far more dangerous than that. No medicine can cure him, and no fairy magic can cleanse him."

The men stared at me, not bothering to hide their alarm.

"How is this possible?" Derrick inquired, his eyes wide.

"Because Link's ailment is not a sickness at all," I replied quietly. "...It's a curse."

Silence filled the room as the leaders struggled to accept my words—at least those who did not already know.

"Months ago," I explained, "when the necromancer held Link prisoner, he tried to make him a slave to his will using dark and forbidden magic. Link resisted and eventually escaped, but not unscathed. Some of that magic had taken root within him, and it has been growing stronger ever since. The curse does not control Link, but fighting it weakens him and causes pain."

"And there is no way to free him?" Aiden asked.

I sighed quietly. "We can reverse its effects, which is the only reason he's survived this long—that and his own strength. But so far we have been unable to permanently lift the curse. We will continue working to find a cure, but that could take months—time the Resistance does not have.

"The reality is this," I said, eyeing them with utmost seriousness, "if Link's condition continues to decline, he will be unable to participate in the Final Strike."

Again the leaders fell silent. I imagined they had reached the same conclusion.

"As I'm sure you know," I continued, "our camp cannot last through the winter—it was never meant to. This war must end within the next two months."

I studied them a moment, finding no signs of surprise on their grim faces.

"My husband is not careless," I added, my eyes moving from one man to the next. "I know he has a plan, and I need you to tell me what it is."

They glanced at each other, and all eyes came to rest on Ian, who sighed quietly.

"We planned to attack after nightfall," he began. "Biggoron has agreed help us bring down the drawbridge, and our army of united Hylians, Gorons, and Gerudo would storm the castle—with Link in the lead. He intended to hunt down Ashton, destroy the staff, and force his surrender while we reclaimed the castle in your name. Then we would hold him prisoner until you had regained sole authority and negotiated with the Vandelian High Council, using Ashton's life as leverage."

I stared at him, seeing one glaring hole in their plan.

"…This plan relies quite heavily on Link's success," I stammered. "Did he mention how he intends to fight through half of Ashton's guard?"

"It's our job to clear his path as best we can, though he did mention a secret weapon of some kind, one powerful enough to give him a distinct advantage."

_Secret weapon…?_

I stiffened as realization struck: _The Master Sword._

Link had already agreed he would not touch Master Sword until we knew what the necromancer intended to do with him. The book we had found in his lair—

_The book... The page I tore from it!_

I had brought it with me the day I fled the castle, but after failing to lift the spell I had nearly forgotten it. I hadn't even shown Impa.

"Your Majesty?"

I looked up to see the leaders waiting expectantly.

"Oh, I—I see," I said, straightening to attention."I will have to discuss this further with Link."

I glanced toward Darunia, but he appeared as concerned as I felt. He likely hadn't known about Link's plan either.

I remained distracted through the duration of the meeting, but I managed to listen as the lieutenants explained where they would be throughout the next two weeks. None of us could guess how Ashton would react to Clef's rescue, but we knew to brace ourselves for the worst.

So, after wishing them all safe travels and arranging to follow up once Link had recovered, I dismissed the leaders and promptly headed back toward the camp. My determination to translate the seemingly unreadable text had doubled, now that I had a Sheikah to assist me.

**xxxxxxx**

Quietly I slipped into the tent Link and I shared, knowing he would still be asleep. Impa sat at our table, poring over a map spread across its small surface. I spied clusters of handwriting scattered about the map, possibly notes about the necromancer.

She looked up as I approached Link's bedside and greeted me quietly.

"How was the meeting?"

"Well enough," I murmured, crossing my arms as I gazed down at Link. "Everyone is pretty anxious about him."

"Did you tell them about...?"

I turned to her and nodded. "They were unsettled, but I think they've suspected something for some time." I shifted my attention back to Link, resisting the urge to stroke his cheek. "He doesn't look well, after all."

Then I turned away and crossed the room to grab my satchel off my bed. Rummaging through it, I pulled out the torn page and unfolded it.

_Still gibberish to me._

"What's that?" Impa asked, folding up her map.

I glanced toward Link, making sure he still slept. Come with me a moment."

She gave me a puzzled look but followed me out of the tent. Hurriedly I settled beneath a tree a few feet away, and Impa did the same.

"At the meeting," I said, keeping my voice hushed, "the leaders told me Link intends to lead the Final Strike using a 'secret weapon' that will give him an advantage. Do you know anything about this?"

Impa shook her head. "You suspect the Master Sword?" It was more a statement than a question.

"Yes, and it reminded me of this," I handed her the page. "This came from a book we—Nabooru, Link, and I—found in the necromancer's lair all those months ago. We think he wrote these words here." I pointed to the Gerudo writing in the margin. "It says—"

"Broken Sword… Broken Guard," Impa read.

"Yes," I said more quietly, remembering to keep my voice down. "We suspected that could refer to Link and the Master Sword, but we couldn't read the text on this page. So we agreed that Link would not touch the Master Sword until we know more about the necromancer's plans—Impa, are you even listening?"

"This is Ancient Sheikan," she murmured.

"Yes, I realize that, but it has an illegibility spell; can't you tell?"

Impa looked at me over the top of the page.

"I can read it clear as day."

My mouth fell open, and I grabbed her arm to see the page. "I still can't read a thing."

"Could it have something to do with my Sheikan blood?"

"Yes, yes, perhaps, but enough about that—just read it!" I froze and pressed my lips together, casting a nervous glance toward the tent. "Please," I added in a whisper.

Impa cleared her throat and softly began to read:

"_As has been written,_

_The Blade shall choose its Wielder,_

_A mortal with an Unbreakable Spirit, _

_Blessed by the Three._

_The Blade shall bind itself to him, _

_And to him alone._

_For it aids none but the Wielder._

_._

_The Wielder is strong, noble, and brave, _

_but still mortal, fallible,_

_and susceptible to evil._

_Should darkness ever taint his soul,_

_The Blade shall cease to know its Wielder._

_And if it should pierce his tainted heart,_

_Its steel will crack and shatter,_

_Doomed to remain in pieces, _

_Forever devoid of power._

_For the Blade cannot kill its Wielder_

_Without sealing its own demise._

_._

_The death of the Wielder _

_By the sacred Blade_

_Would bring endless darkness._

_An era ravaged by tyranny,_

_And wrought with grief._

_For without the Blade of Evil's Bane_

_No Wielder can ever rise again."_

_._

I sat still and quiet, letting the poetic words unravel into one clear and terrible conclusion.

"…He doesn't simply want to destroy the Master Sword," I breathed, "he means to destroy the line of Heroes."

"I've heard this before," Impa murmured, staring down at the page. "Long ago… There are some who doubt its credibility."

"We don't have the luxury of doubt, Impa. We must assume it's true. Why else would he go to such lengths?"

"Why indeed," she replied. "If this had anything to do with seizing the throne he would have done it by now. He controls the undead, after all."

"Ashton is nothing but a puppet," I said quietly. "Maybe the necromancer means to control the throne from afar by controlling him. Then once he… once he finishes his business with Link he could take the throne for himself. His plan would ensure a long and unchallenged rule."

"Perhaps," Impa nodded. "…Or perhaps he's setting the stage for someone else."

I glanced at her, and her weakly masked fear reflected my own.

_Ganondorf_.

"Impa, it's impossible. We banished him, locked him away in another dimension."

"We locked him away with the Triforce of Power. Who knows what he is still capable of?"

I stared down at my hands, trying not to ponder the possibilities. An icy fear had closed around my heart, chilling me to the bone.

_If he were to return… _Memories of a darker time filled my mind. A time of poverty, crime, and grief. A time when kindness bowed to suspicion and safety existed only in our dreams. I had survived such a time only because I had clung to the hope that Hyrule's redeemer would come. And he had come.

But now… _If the curse takes him…_

"Zelda."

I looked up, startled by Impa's warm hand on my shoulder. Above us a bird sang a quiet tune—a sound rarely heard those days.

"Don't despair just yet," she soothed. "Until the necromancer has the Stones and the Ocarina, he cannot touch the Master Sword. All we have to do keep those from him, and his plan—whatever it is—will never come to pass."

I swallowed, remembering my dream from the other night.

"_Now tell me where the Stones are."_

I had yet to tell Impa about it; somehow I could not find the will to do so.

"Yes…" I murmured. "But we must also protect Link."

"Of course. He's not going anywhere for a while yet. But when he is well again, we'll have ourselves another one of those long talks, find out what he's really planning."

I nodded, but inwardly I wished I could better gauge Link's state of mind. Did he plan to use the Master Sword because he believed he could be cured? Or did something else drive him to act so recklessly, something like desperation?

_Again you doubt him_, my inner voice scolded me.

Shame burned through me, but I could not deny the truth. I feared for him… and that fear cast a shadow of doubt.

"Zelda?" Again Impa broke through my thoughts. "Try not to worry so much" she soothed. "We'll figure this out."

I nodded but remained silent, unable to voice my uncertainty.

**xxxxxxx**

Three days passed, and still we heard no word of an attack. I could only assume the Council had interfered, perhaps even the Court. An execution had not been performed in nearly a century, and to do so publicly was unspeakable. Perhaps even the nobles had found themselves unsettled by Ashton's cruelty.

Life at the camp carried on in much the same way, though many people had been relocated due to the addition of the infirmary. Everything had since grown a bit more crowded, but no one had complained—at least not to my knowledge. The residents had fortunately formed a close and supportive community. I knew some minor squabbles had been dealt with here and there, but such conflicts were often resolved before I heard about them.

Heather still accompanied me for walks around the camp, and I was glad to find our conversation came easily. She often spoke of life after the war, of the life she hoped to build with Adam.

I listened more than I contributed, speaking about my own future only when she asked questions. I could understand her need to look ahead, but I could not see beyond the dark shroud surrounding our present lives. I hadn't lost hope, but I feared what lay ahead too much to indulge in such dreams. My more pleasant thoughts always strayed back into the past.

I prayed Heather would never lose her positive spirit.

The news of Clef's rescue had spread like wildfire throughout the camp, but because of Siena's imprisonment there had been no celebration. Everyone anxiously awaited news of the next execution, though so far none had reached us. I prayed that meant none had taken place.

Physically Clef had begun to recover, as he had suffered no serious injuries, but his spirits remained low. He knew rescuing Siena would be impossible, since we could not reach her within the castle walls. I had gone to see him a few times, but I sensed he preferred solitude.

Link's recovery had also progressed, but slowly. He could leave his bed with my assistance, but only for short periods of time. Minimal exertion sapped his strength, and he slept through most of the day. I remained convinced that the curse, or more Link's resistance to it, took a harder toll than he would admit.

His nightmares plagued him every night. Again and again I woke to his fearful, incoherent cries, trying to soothe him out of his disoriented state. Link had urged me to sleep somewhere I would not be disturbed, but I had refused. I knew he secretly wanted me close.

Impa's fear had also come to pass—every day Link suffered terrible headaches. They rendered him overly sensitive to light and sound, and sometimes the pain grew so severe it made him sick. I had seen such symptoms before—Lady Renae sometimes endured similar headaches—but never Link. And while medicine could help Renae, nothing could alleviate Link's pain.

Link managed to find some rest despite the pain, and that particular day he had slept well into the evening. Supper had already been served, and the residents had gathered to watch the minstrels perform on the far side of the camp.

I sat at the small table in our tent, reading a translation of the torn page Impa had written for me by our dimly lit lantern. Yet no matter how many times I studied the words, the same questions remained. Where had the necromancer come across such ancient writing? How did he know so much about Link, about the Master Sword, about anything?

_...Could he truly have some connection to Ganondorf?_ It would certainly explain his extraordinary power...

Breathing a quiet, frustrated sigh, I placed the paper back into my satchel and rose to check on Link.

He lay with a cloth folded over his eyes, to help shield them from the daylight piercing through the canvas. But night had fallen, so gently I removed the cloth, hoping the dim light wouldn't wake him. Only sleep spared him the constant pain of his headaches.

I had barely set the cloth aside, however, when I felt warm fingers grasp mine.

"Oh—" I turned to find Link gazing up at me. His face was calm, almost peaceful in the lamplight. "I'm sorry; did I wake you?"

"It's okay," he said, his voice hoarse and barely more than a whisper. "I sleep too much."

I smiled sadly, settling onto the stool at his bedside and lifting a hand to stroke his hair.

"How are you doing?" I asked, careful to speak as softly as possible. "Any better?"

"...A little."

I studied him a moment, noting the subtle signs of pain in his face. Of course he would lie—for my sake, not his.

"Do you want me to put out the lantern?"

"No... I prefer a little light."

He avoided looking toward the lantern, but I knew it comforted him more than it pained him. He saw more than enough darkness in his dreams.

"Hold on just a little longer," I soothed, gently stroking his cheek. "Tomorrow we'll take you to the Forest Temple. Impa and the others will make the headaches stop."

He did not reply but closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. "How is Clef?"

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully.

"...His health is improving. He should be back on his feet soon."

"No word about Siena?"

"None," I replied sadly. "But no news is good news, I suppose."

"I hope so." Link opened his eyes and reached for my hand. "And what about you?" he murmured. "Have you been feeling all right?"

I shook my head, dismissing the question. "I'm fine, Link; don't worry about me."

"But I do," he said softly. "I worry all the time. I want to take care of you… be strong for you..."

"Shh..." I pressed a kiss to his hand. "You _are_ strong. How else could you have survived so much?"

The words had barely left my mouth before my vision crept back into my thoughts, pricking like a thorn. Fearing he might see the worry in my face, I leaned in to softly kiss his lips.

"But you'll lose that strength if you don't eat," I said. "Can I bring you something?"

It was not a question, despite my choice of words. Link knew this.

"If you insist," he murmured.

"I do." Tenderly I kissed his forehead. "I'll be right back."

I rose to my feet and hurried out of the tent, intending to find Impa before I prepared something for Link. We never left him alone for long.

It was she, however, who found me.

I had barely entered the main area of the camp when I saw her rushing toward me. One look at her face sent an icy wave through me, for I saw something Impa rarely allowed herself to show.

_Fear_.

"What is it?" I asked once we reached each other.

She grasped my shoulders, her red eyes meeting mine.

"Kakariko," she breathed, "it's under attack."

I stared at her, vaguely aware of the horror stabbing my heart.

"What?" I stammered. "Why… Why would Vandelians attack—?"

"They didn't," she cut me off. "Stalfos did. And the gods know what else."

Again I stared, struck dumb with shock.

"We—we have to do something—"

"We will," Impa said, barely containing the urgency in her voice. "You won't. A group of us is going down there, but you stay here. There is nothing you can do, not in your condition."

I pressed my lips together, wanting more than anything to assist them.

"And you must watch over Link," she added, her eyes boring into mine. "Try to keep this from him as long as possible. At least until we've cleansed him."

I swallowed, forcing my panic into the recesses of my mind.

"You're right," I whispered. "I will."

She nodded, letting her hands slip from my shoulders. "The Vandelians have fled, and the monsters will be gone by dawn, but until then we will save whomever and whatever we can. I'll return as soon as I can."

I grabbed her wrist before she could turn away.

"Take the Ocarina," I said, my voice hollow. "Please, Impa. You can reach Kakariko faster and return here safely. And you can play the Song of Storms."

She hesitated, searching my face. "All right."

We hurried back to the tent, and I plastered a calm mask onto my face before pushing the canvas flap aside. I prayed Link would not see through it.

The moment we stepped inside the tent, however, we both stopped dead in our tracks.

His bed was empty.

Not only that, but the blanket lay discarded on the ground, and his wrinkled sheets appeared as though he had struggled. The lantern remained on the table, but Link rarely used it anyway.

"He was just here!" I exclaimed. Panic crept along the edges of my mind. _He isn't strong enough to walk off on his own… Is he?_

"He can't have gone far," Impa said as I grabbed the lantern and stepped outside. I refrained from calling his name, unsure if the situation was serious enough.

_Maybe I'm overreacting…_

Deep down, however, a sense of foreboding stirred within me. Still I suppressed it, convinced Link remained nearby. As much as I wanted Impa to stay until he returned, I knew Kakariko needed her more.

"I can look for him, Impa," I said, my eyes scanning the surrounding area. "You go with the others to Kakariko… I'll get you the Ocarina—"

_The Ocarina._

Panic jarred my senses as I flung the tent flap aside. Setting the lantern on the table, I grabbed my satchel and rummaged through it.

No Ocarina.

"No… No…" I turned the bag upside down, dumping its contents onto my bed. The Ocarina was not among them.

_It cannot be… It cannot be!_

"Zelda?" Impa stepped inside the tent.

"He took it," I whispered, still unable to believe my eyes. "He took it…"

"What's wrong?" I felt Impa's hand on my shoulder. "What is it?"

"He... He teleported," I stammered.

I didn't need to see the fear and confusion I knew had claimed her face.

"He… to where?"

I turned to her then, meeting her gaze with wide, fearful eyes.

"…To the Shadow Temple."


	37. Chapter XXXVII

AN: I know, I know, this took forever, and I'm truly sorry about that. May was just a gosh awful month as far as finding time to write, but I'm hoping June will be better.

I also hope this chapter is worth the long wait, because at this point I have little confidence in it (big surprise there). T.T

Thank you all for reading and especially reviewing! :)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXXVII

"I will not stay behind!"

"Zelda, come to your senses. It's too dangerous, especially for you."

"If the necromancer wanted me dead he would have come after me by now!"

"Have you forgotten the Stalfos in Kakariko? Even without the attack, you cannot afford to stand in the necromancer's way, vulnerable as you are."

I seethed at her use of the word. "What if Link went against his will?" I argued. "What if he's lost control of his actions? Only I could reach him—"

"You don't know that."

"Which is exactly why I must go! I cannot abandon him now!"

My sharp, frantic words silenced her lingering objections. We both knew every second brought Link closer to danger, possibly death, but I could not bear to stay behind.

Impa pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose. Inwardly I calmed myself, knowing she had caved, and waited for her to speak.

"You will do everything exactly as I say," she said sharply, "even if I tell you to flee; do you understand? We don't know what awaits us there."

I nodded and grabbed my cloak, throwing it over my shoulders as she reached for her traveling bag. Realizing I needed some kind of weapon, I crossed the tent to lift my mattress, snatching a large knife from beneath it. This I slipped into my boot, as an extra precaution. I did not expect to fight, especially since Impa had armed herself with two swords and several more throwing knives.

Pulling our hoods up over our heads, we then left the tent and hurried off toward Goron City. Word of the attack had only begun to spread through the camp, but a group of volunteers had already headed off toward the portal. Together we passed through into the City, barely acknowledging each other. Everyone seemed too focused on reaching the village to bother with words; I doubted they even recognized Impa and me.

Goron City stood strangely quiet and near empty—I could only assume every able Goron had rushed off to Kakariko's aid. Those who had emerged from their homes talked amongst each other in fearful tones, watching as our group rapidly ascended the levels toward the main exit.

Step after step we climbed, and Impa's slower pace forced us to fall back from the rest of the group. I knew she kept this pace for my sake, much to my frustration.

Finally we reached the top level and ran out the large entranceway, each of us blending with the shadows of the night. Crisp mountain air filled my lungs, clearing my senses and strengthening my resolve. Determination swelled within me, cracking the icy block of fear in my chest—

And then I saw it.

Our beloved Kakariko, engulfed in flames.

From such a distance I could see the damage had not yet spread through the entire village. This gave me little hope, however. The Stalfos had barely begun their destruction, and the gods only knew how many had attacked...

A rough but feminine hand snatched mine, pulling me onward—for I had unwittingly slowed my steps. Impa gave me no time to absorb the horrific sight but forced me to keep moving. I did so clumsily, slowed by my lingering shock. Kakariko had never been my home, but I knew it to be a peaceful yet energetic place, populated by a warm and tight-knit community despite its size. Seeing such a wonderful place reduced to ash struck a hard blow. Impa, however, showed no emotion. I knew seeing her home village in flames broke her heart, but she kept this all locked inside. Her strength never ceased to amaze me.

We ran whenever the uneven ground permitted it, determined to keep moving as quickly as possible. Despite our speed the journey seemed endless. Cliff after cliff, turn after turn, the Mountain Trail had never felt so long, especially in darkness. Every second pressed upon our anxious minds, crushing our patience and doubling our anxiety.

Finally we rounded one more turn, reaching the last stretch into Kakariko. The back gate lay in shambles, possibly destroyed by the Gorons who had rushed in to help.

Letting the others run ahead, Impa and I slowed to a stop and ducked into a small cove to catch our breath.

"We must run straight to the Temple," she said between breaths, swiping a few strands of white hair out of her eyes. "The Stalfos are slow and dim-witted. As long as we keep moving we should pass through unscathed."

I nodded, aware of her concerned gaze as I tried to quiet my still heavy breathing. Ordinarily I would have recovered sooner, but of course my condition interfered.

"It's madness to bring you here," she muttered.

"I'm fine, Impa," I said, adjusting my hood and turning away before she could change her mind. "Let's go."

She grabbed my arm, halting me mid-step. "Take my hand," she ordered. "And don't release it unless I say to."

I obeyed without question, clasping her hand as she led me toward the village and into the chaos.

Everywhere I heard screams, from men, women, and children alike. Angry red flames filled my vision, devouring everything they touched. Mobs of frantic villagers darted about, crying for loved ones or shrieking with terror as they fled the Stalfos.

The skeletal monsters packed the streets and prowled the alleys, their bony arms slashing thick, jagged swords with impossible strength. Countless holes littered the ground, evidence that they had forced their way up from underground. I imagined more had climbed out of the well and emerged from the Shadow Temple. Their countless glowing eyes surrounded us, piercing through the flames, but Impa and I kept running before any found a chance to strike.

Gorons had also swarmed the village, knocking back Stalfos with their bare fists and charging through burning buildings to check for trapped survivors. They were incredibly strong, and their tough, fire-resistant skin enabled them to face dangers few Hylians would dare attempt. Pride and gratitude swelled within me as I watched them, momentarily forgetting my fear.

The feeling evaporated, however, when I slammed into Impa, who had stopped dead in her tracks. I staggered back, shaking my head, and a metallic _scrape_ told me she had drawn her sword. I peered past her to see two large Stalfos blocking our path.

Impa released my hand and leapt forward, slashing at the nearest foe with an angry cry. Stunned, the monster stumbled backward, and quickly we fled in the opposite direction. Her hand snatched mine again, leading me down a wider main street toward the back of the village. Houses burned on either side, and some looked ready to collapse. I shut them out as best I could, focusing on my steps as we ascended another stairway into the upper level of the village. The narrow passageway leading to Kakariko Graveyard entered our sights, spurring us on through another crowd of Gorons, Hylians, and Stalfos. We reached the passageway and ran through it, neither of us daring to look back.

The noise slowly quieted as we distanced ourselves from the village, and soon the passageway widened to reveal a surprisingly empty Graveyard. More holes littered the ground, but the Stalfos had all gone to terrorize the village.

Slowing our pace to catch our breath, Impa and I proceeded toward the back of the Graveyard, passing rows of headstones until we reached the rock wall surrounding the place. A few shorter cliffs jutted out here and there, which Impa immediately climbed. I followed after her, letting her pull me up onto a wider ledge.

At our feet rose a six-sided stone slab bearing an ancient Hylian symbol. It stood for "shadow," one of the six elements of Hyrule. A similar slab lay before each of the six elemental Temples, each with its own crest. They acted as gateways, portals to a mysterious place called the Chamber of the Sages, which lay within the Temple of Light at the heart of the Sacred Realm—accessible only by magic.

Behind the portal rose a stone entranceway tunneling deep into the mountainside—the entrance to the Shadow Temple.

_The House of the Dead._

Impa caught my eye and tightened her hold on my hand. "Remember your promise now—do everything as I say."

I nodded impatiently, itching to enter the place and find Link.

The tunnel led into a small entrance chamber, where a ring of lit torches greeted us. Their hushed crackling felt impossibly quiet after the disaster we had left behind, yet I found their gentle flames ominous. Lit torches in the entrance chamber meant one thing: someone had already gone inside.

The doorway, usually disguised as a wall carved with a large and unnerving Sheikan eye, had already opened to reveal a long, dark corridor. A nightmarish place lay beyond that doorway, but Impa and I pressed on without hesitation. As the Sage of Shadow, she had grown well accustomed to the horrors of the Shadow Temple, and I had no fear left for the angry, restless spirits which inhabited it.

Together we entered the corridor, and for a while I saw nothing. Pitch blackness blinded me, leaving only Impa's hand and the stone floor to guide me. I knew countless traps and illusions lay scattered throughout the Temple; one misstep could be my last. A deep chasm had once stretched before the entrance, preventing intruders from wandering inside, but Impa had a pathway constructed there years ago. I trusted her guidance through such dangers, even as she led us toward what appeared to be a wall bearing an eerie, grinning face. A strange and unpleasant sensation swept though me as we walked right through it, making me shudder.

Immediately my eyes focused on two dim lights suspended in the distance, and I began to recognize what appeared to be a large, open chamber. More dim faces grinned at me from the far walls, and a strange contraption stood at the center, crowned with a statue of some awful winged creature.

"I doubt they went very deep into the Temple," Impa murmured, slowing us to a stop. "Do you remember anything from your vision?"

I furrowed my brow, struggling to recall any details.

"Just a dark corridor, with torches lining the walls."

She hesitated, considering my words.

"This way."

She pulled me through another grinning phantom wall, down a short corridor, and through a noisy metal door. Inky darkness closed in around us, broken only by a nearby torch. Impa snatched it off the wall and thrust it outward, but the light barely extended three steps before us. An unnatural darkness cloaked the entire Temple, heavy with the lingering rage of restless souls.

Bodiless eyes watched me from every corner, and I vaguely registered the chill creeping down my spine. Buy my thoughts remained with Link, and somehow I sensed he was near. Our surroundings did resemble those from my vision, but I knew countless more corridors ran through the Temple's deep interior. The silence unnerved me, however, and I soon began to doubt my instincts.

_Where are you...?_

My thoughts quieted as a muffled sound drew my attention. It slithered toward us and crept into my ears, filling me with dread.

Groaning… eerie and unnaturally low. A voice long mutated by evil, rumbling from a rotting throat.

_ReDeads_.

"Impa—"

"Stay here," she ordered, thrusting me behind her and releasing my hand.

I held my breath, watching as she approached the undead. Slowly she held the torch out above her head, illuminating a small cluster of them. They cowered in the light and slowly turned toward her...

My hands clapped over my ears as their screams shattered the silence, but the sound still sent me to my knees. I gasped, struggling to resist the pressure pounding in my head. Icy claws dug into my heart, and I felt I would never know joy again.

If not for my inability to use magic, I would have filled the corridor with blinding light, reducing the ReDeads to harmless piles of flesh and bone within seconds. But I had no such power, and so I waited for Impa to finish them her way.

As the Sage of Shadow, she held some natural resistance to the ReDead's cry, and I suspected her Sheikan heritage strengthened her all the more. Forcing an eye open, I watched her move from one corpse to the next, swiping her torch with one hand and her sword with the other. The corpses screeched as the flames devoured their emaciated bodies, and one by one Impa finished them with her blade. I knew ReDeads attacked with startling speed once their prey drew close enough, but Impa dodged them all. She danced with the rhythm and speed of a master swordsman, striking foe after foe.

I forced myself to my feet, drawing a deep, calming breath as the last corpse crumpled to the floor. Silence and stillness filled the corridor once again.

"Something drew them here," Impa said as I stepped around the fallen, twitching bodies. "Or someone…"

My eyes scanned the darkness as she fell in step beside me, devouring every inch the weak torchlight exposed. We hurried over tile after dusty tile, and then...

My breath caught as something metal suddenly glinted in the light—a knife. Impa grabbed my arm to stop me from running, and together we inched closer to illuminate the nearby form...

"_Link!"_

I shrieked his name even before I recognized him lying on his back, unmoving. Breaking from Impa's grasp, I flew to his side and fell to my knees, blindly feeling his neck for a pulse…

_There._

The slightest pressure beat against my trembling fingertips, wrenching me back from the brink of despair. I closed my eyes and released a breath I'd unknowingly held.

_He's alive._

"He's alive," I breathed, more to myself than Impa as she knelt beside me. "But—"

I broke off with a gasp as the torchlight fully illuminated Link's face.

Black tendrils crept up from under his collar, covering his entire neck as they spread up along his jaw line. The scar hadn't simply grown—it was _growing_. The thin, arterial lines stretched before my very eyes, marking Link's face as it claimed him from within.

"Gods," Impa whispered.

"How do we stop it?" I cried. "He's barely breathing; he can't fight this now!"

"We have to cleanse him," she said, her voice unusually tense. "Tonight." Her eyes met mine, glinting with determination in the torchlight. "I have the medallion. We can teleport to the Chamber and call the others there. They've been awaiting my signal for the past two days; it won't take long for them to join us."

I nodded, taking a deep breath to clear my head. "All right." Her plan offered a shred of hope, enabling me to thrust my panic aside.

"We have to get him outside," Impa said, taking Link's arm and draping it across her shoulders. I moved to do the same with his other arm, but the blood staining his shirt made me pause.

"Wait," I said, unpinning his cloak and tearing his shirt open to find the source. "If he's wounded…"

My shaking hands found no wound, however. Only the scar's dark arterial lines marred his skin.

"I don't think that's his blood," Impa murmured, reaching for the knife which lay nearby. I tore my eyes from Link to glance at the weapon. Its blade shone red, and more blood stained the floor where it had fallen.

"Link must have dropped it when he fell," she observed.

Our eyes met as a single but profound suspicion passed between us. _If this is the necromancer's blood…_

But we had no time to consider what transpired in that corridor. Quickly I repinned Link's cloak and draped his arm across my shoulders.

"I will carry him," Impa said.

"We'll move faster if I help you," I argued.

"_No_, Zelda." Anger sharpened her tone. "You will carry his cloak—and this torch."

She held it toward me, and I hesitated, remembering my promise to obey her.

"…All right."

I pulled off Link's cloak and slung it over my shoulder before taking the torch. Impa then wrapped her free arm around Link's waist, and I moved to help her hoist him up off the floor and onto her back. She cast me a warning look, and reluctantly I backed away. Thrusting the torch out before me, I turned to retrace our steps back toward the Temple entrance.

Impa's remarkable strength allowed us to move at a steady pace. Before long we had passed through the phantom wall and crossed the open chamber. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized we had left without retrieving the Ocarina, but we couldn't afford to turn back. We would search for it once Link was safe, but deep down I knew the necromancer had taken it.

I pushed the thought away, unwilling to dwell on it. The Ocarina was a sacred and powerful heirloom, one I had sworn to protect, but it was still an object. Link took priority over any item. He was the Hero of Time.

_A convenient excuse_, my inner voice sneered.

In truth it wouldn't have mattered who Link was. I had rushed to his aid because I loved him, simple as that. I had let my feelings control my actions, something the Council and even my father had warned me about before I married Link. As Queen I had sworn to serve my people, first and foremost, and running off to Shadow Temple to rescue my potentially dangerous husband was irresponsible, impractical. A proper queen would have remained in the camp, or perhaps in Goron City, aiding her people while someone else pursued Link.

But that night I was not a queen. I was a woman, a wife desperate to save her husband from destroying himself.

Rounding a corner, I caught sight of the torches burning beyond the entranceway, and the sight of them gave us both a burst of speed. Carefully Impa navigated between the flames while I placed my torch in an empty holder on the wall. Then we hurried out into the brisk night air.

Beyond the cliffs which closed around the Graveyard I saw the remains of Kakariko's famous windmill, reduced to a blazing beacon in the night sky. The sight struck another painful blow, but knowing Link's life drained with every second enabled me to ignore it. Impa had also thrust her grief aside, and the worry etched into her normally stoic features frightened me.

She sank onto the smooth hexagonal slab, holding Link against her shoulder with one hand and reaching under her collar with the other. I watched her grab a thin chain around her neck and yank something out from under her clothes. A dark, flat pendant dangled from the chain, and its rounded, violet edges appeared black in the night.

This was the Shadow Medallion. Every Sage had their own pendant, and each magical item acted as an amplifier of sorts, channeling and strengthening their power.

Pulling the chain up over her head, Impa then drew Link closer and reached for me.

"Come here," she whispered.

I did so gladly, wrapping my arms around her and letting her power carry me away to the Chamber of the Sages.

We materialized on the edge of a large platform which rose high above a seemingly endless dark abyss. Its brilliant blue stone shimmered as though water reflected upon it, though I saw no such source. At its center lay a bright golden crest of the Triforce, surrounded by the elemental symbols of Forest, Fire, Water, Spirit, Shadow, and Light. Each symbol shone a vibrant color, much like the Medallions each Sage carried.

As the Sage and Hero of Time, Link and I could enter the Chamber through any of the portals without the use of a Medallion, and we normally appeared on the Triforce symbol. This time, however, we had materialized on the Shadow symbol, having entered by Impa's power rather than our own.

Gently Impa lay Link against the polished floor, brushing his hair out of his eyes. I moved to rest his head on my lap, noticing then how the scar had begun to frame his face, moving up toward his eyes. His hands, too, had been completely covered. Just looking at him sent icy needles through my heart. I could almost feel his life slipping away, smothered beneath the heavy darkness of the Black Echo. Nausea threatened to force its way up my throat, and I barely suppressed it with deep breaths.

"How much time does he have?" I whispered, unable to speak. Thankfully the chamber stood silent as a tomb.

"I don't know," Impa murmured. "I've never encountered this before. He certainly won't last the night like this.

"But we have to leave him here a moment," she added gently, meeting my gaze. "I need you to help me summon the others."

I nodded and carefully pulled away, placing Link's cloak under his head before joining Impa at the center of the chamber. There we sat cross-legged upon the Triforce crest. Fortunately summoning the other sages required no magic, only telepathy—something I could still use to my full potential.

We clasped hands and closed our eyes, struggling to empty our minds. Considering the situation, this proved more difficult than I had anticipated. Repeatedly I pushed away my anxiety and searched deep within myself, reaching for my center, the eye of my inner storm.

At last my thoughts began to quiet, but I sensed something other than myself pulling me into a deeper meditative state. I opened myself to it, letting its powerful yet gentle energy channel through me.

And then I knew... _The Triforce of Wisdom_.

How I had managed to tap into its power, I could not say. It had a will of its own, much like the Triforce of Courage. It did not respond to mere commands, but it did respond to _me_, to my innermost desire.

I stretched my consciousness with newfound confidence, reaching out to Impa and helping her reach a similar meditative state. Her thanks rippled through my awareness, and together we extended our thoughts outward to the other Sages. Normally this would be impossible, since I did not share a direct telepathic bond with them. But the Chamber held an ancient magic that not only strengthened our powers but united them, concentrating each element into a single source of pure energy. We had used that energy to banish Ganondorf to the Sacred Realm, holding him there with a Seal tied to the Master Sword.

I remained convinced that our combined power could break the _Khaverte d' Refero_ and cleanse it from Link entirely. But without my magic...

Regret trickled in, shaking my concentration, and quickly I shoved such thoughts from my mind. _Focus!_

Taking another deep, calming breath, I focused on contacting the others. I sought out each individual presence, recognizing them with ease. Their spirits blazed like beacons in the dark, even despite the distance between us. I sensed Rauru's intelligence, Saria's gentleness, Darunia's strength, Ruto's vigor, Nabooru's zeal.

_Please come… Hurry..._

One by one they responded, not with questions but quick, anxious affirmations. They knew why they had been summoned. I felt them each break their connection, and I knew they had rushed to their own Temples to activate their portals.

My eyes opened, meeting Impa's tired gaze. _Now we wait._

Our hands had barely parted when Rauru, the Sage of Light, appeared over the bright yellow symbol. He was a large man with a thick white mustache and bright, ageless blue eyes. Clothed in heavy, layered robes of orange and red, he carried himself with a calm, sophisticated air.

His quick response did not surprise me. Ages ago he had been one of the original Sages who had built the Temple of Time. Now he existed only in spiritual form, watching over the Temple of Light. He required no portal to reach the Chamber.

"Lady Zelda," he greeted me with a bow. "Mistress Impa. You have summoned me?"

"Yes, Rauru," Impa replied. "We must perform another cleansing."

His eyes moved to Link's still form. "The Hero is in danger?"

"The curse has overwhelmed him," Impa said as we returned to Link's side. "It was too much in his weakened condition."

"The blood on his clothes…"

"It's not his," Impa assured him. "Don't worry about it."

She glanced at me, silently communicating to leave the details alone, and I gladly complied. We would explain everything later, once Link was safe.

_If they can save him…_

The sound of tearing fabric broke through my thoughts, and I looked up to see Impa rip two long strips from the hem of her cloak.

"Hold his wrists together," she instructed me.

I did so, despite my confusion. Concern swept through me when she began to wrap the material around Link's wrists, tightly binding them.

"Why are you…?"

"He's going to struggle, Zelda," she cut me off gently. "Quite violently. I do this so he won't hurt us or himself."

I fell silent, swallowing my protests as she bound his ankles and pulled the cloth into a tight knot.

"What's happened to Link?"

A haughty but fearful voice rang through the chamber, startling me. I turned to see Ruto approach, a frown darkening her delicate Zoran features.

"We're here to perform a cleansing, right? How is—"

Her jaw dropped, cutting her sentence short.

"His face!" she cried. "How—How did you let it spread so far? Why didn't you call us sooner?" She turned to me, her violet eyes wide with accusation.

My lips parted, but I found myself momentarily speechless. "I…"

"Enough, Ruto," Impa snapped. "This is not Zelda's fault."

I dropped my gaze and swallowed hard. _But it is… I should never have left his side. I could have stopped him…_

Tears stung my eyes, and I felt Ruto's arm around my shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Zelda," she murmured. "That was unfair of me. Of course you wouldn't let him waste away. It's good to see you."

The accusatory tone had not completely left her voice, and despite her implication I returned her hug.

"It's good to see you too, Ruto."

"All right, I'm here! I was already in the Temple, waiting. How is he?"

We turned to see a tanned woman with flaming red hair, dressed in a pale pink satin robe over nightclothes.

"Din in heaven," Nabooru breathed. "Is he…?"

"He has time yet," Impa said, "but very little."

"Gods," the Gerudo whispered, kneeling down for a closer look. "Poor kid…"

Then she turned to me. "Oh, Zelda," she murmured, "you're white as a ghost…"

She pulled me into a tight, warm embrace, one I gladly returned.

"Hi, Nabooru," I whispered stupidly, unable to form a better response.

She pulled away and cupped my face in her hands, giving me a sad smile.

"Don't you worry, kiddo," she soothed. "We'll fix him, as soon as the others get here… Who do we need still? Saria? Darunia?"

As if on cue, Saria suddenly materialized with a flash of green.

"Is Link okay?" she called, hurrying forward to join us. Immediately she gasped, pressing both hands to her mouth, and Nabooru moved aside as she sank to her knees. "Link…" Tentatively she stroked his face, her fingertips tracing the dark arterial marks.

"We can save him, Saria," Nabooru assured her, rubbing her shoulder. "As soon as Darunia gets here."

"Let's have him ready while we wait," Impa said.

Ruto and Nabooru helped her drag him over to the center of the six elemental symbols, lying him against the Triforce crest. I placed his cloak back under his head, spreading it out to help protect him when he thrashed about. The Sages then knelt upon their appropriate symbols while I remained at Link's side, clasping his hand as we waited for Darunia. My eyes remained fixed on his face, watching as the tendrils still inched up toward his forehead…

Finally Darunia appeared, materializing upon the gleaming red Fire symbol.

"Brother Link," he blurted out. "Is he—?" He broke off when he saw the markings on Link's face. "Oh…"

"I'll explain everything later, Darunia," Impa said. "Right now Link needs to be cleansed. Immediately."

"Of course." The Goron nodded to me and sank to his knees, assuming a similar pose as the others. I rose to my feet and backed away, standing between him and Ruto. There I watched as they bowed their heads in concentration.

Auras the same colors as their symbols formed around each Sage, growing brighter as they summoned their power. Moments later the entire platform began to glow so brightly the blue shone nearly white. I squinted but kept my eyes on Link as he began to stir. His movements grew until he writhed against the stone, moaning in a weak, pained voice. The Sages did not react, and across the platform I saw Impa furrow her brow.

Then he cried out, thrashing violently against the glowing stone. Again and again he screamed, clearly in agony. Unshed tears burned in my throat, and I clenched my fists at my sides, struggling to stay calm.

"Saria, concentrate," Impa's voice rang out.

I looked at the Kokiri, seeing the pain in her young face.

"I hate doing this to him," she choked.

"We're helping him, Saria," Nabooru spoke, her eyes still closed. "We're his only chance."

Saria bowed her head further down so her green hair veiled her features, but she said nothing more. Link continued to thrash about, his cries echoing about the vast Chamber. As much as I longed to look away, I kept my eyes fixed on him, watching anxiously...

And then, miraculously, the markings on his face began to fade, slowly retreating back down toward is neck. His hands had also cleared, and my heart pounded as the only visible lines vanished down below his collar bone—

"Stop!" Impa gasped. "That's enough."

The Sages collapsed against the platform, all of them fighting for breath. Link also lay still, and I rushed to his side, relieved to see a calmer look on his weary face. The others quickly gathered around, peering down at him.

"Farore," Nabooru muttered, brushing a few strands of red hair out of her flushed face, "he put up a serious fight that time."

"Not Link," Impa corrected. "The evil within him."

"It is much stronger," Darunia murmured.

"Yes."

I glanced at her, hearing the worry in her voice, but her gaze remained on Link.

"But the markings," Ruto spoke up, her pale features drawn into another frown. "Last time we left only the scar."

Impa shook her head. "I dare not push him any further. We can try again at a later time."

I sighed, saddened by the thought of Link enduring another cleansing. The black marks had left his face, but he still had a slow recovery ahead of him.

Impa placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"He'll be all right," she said gently. "He needs food and rest, as do you."

"Wait," Nabooru spoke up, "we still need that long explanation you mentioned. Word doesn't reach us out in the desert, not while a troupe of Vandelians sits on our doorstep. I don't even understand how Zelda is here in the first place."

"We don't hear much either," Ruto added, crossing her slender, fin-bearing arms.

"Let Zelda rest," Impa said. "I will tell you everything we know."

I gazed down at Link, tenderly stroking his face as I listened to the others with half an ear. The realization that he would survive that night struck me with full force, flooding my senses with relief. The panic I had shoved to the back of my mind slowly trickled away, allowing a sense of calm to fill its place. The others faded into the background, their voices little more than a soothing buzz of noise.

Wearily I settled down beside Link, resting my head on his shoulder as sheer exhaustion carried me off to sleep.

**xxxxxxx**

"I had nothing to do with the attack! I made no such order—I swear it!"

Vasilis and Ashton stood in the king's chamber, shouting about the attack on Kakariko. The minister had come pounding on Ashton's door the moment he received word of the attack, much to the king's annoyance.

"You expect me to believe that?" Vasilis growled. "That staff makes you more than suspicious!"

"I'm telling you it was that bloody necromancer! How _dare_ he interfere with my rule like this, framing me for his crime—he means to ruin me!"

"Don't be absurd," Vasilis scoffed. "He wouldn't bother playing such games with you. He gave you your power, and he can easily take it away. If this was the necromancer's doing it likely involved the general."

"Stop calling him that," Ashton snapped, massaging his temples. "He's been long stripped of that position. I doubt he was worthy of it in the first place."

The minister ignored him. "Whatever happened, the people will blame you. After Captain Bard's failed execution this will look like some horrid act of revenge. Kakariko is a beloved village, second only to Castletown. No one will trust you now; the court already doubts you! At this rate you'll destroy your own rule."

"Enough!" Ashton roared, green eyes flashing with rage. "You're supposed to be my advisor—make yourself useful and advise me!"

Vasilis frowned but folded his arms and stared into the fire, deep in thought. Silence filled the chamber as Ashton awaited the minister's response. Before he could offer any advice, however, a knock sounded at the door.

"Who is it?" Ashton barked, turning to face the double doors.

"Captain Felix, my Lord," a deep voice called through the doors. "Forgive my intrusion, but I have come to deliver Jedrek Khar, as ordered."

"Jedrek Khar?" Vasilis stammered, his grey eyes wide with disbelief. "What is that animal doing here?"

"You forget, Vasilis," Ashton replied, unfazed by the minister's shock, "retrieving the queen remains my highest priority—as does the death of her mongrel ex-husband. Once I've finished him, Zelda will be back in my grasp, and this pathetic Resistance will crumble."

"What does any of that have to do with Khar?" Vasilis demanded.

"It's rather simple, really," Ashton replied, brushing some invisible fleck off his sleeve. "So far my men have failed to capture the bastard, but such is no task for a soldier. I realize he a man of… certain talents. Thus I require someone more specialized than a mere soldier… an expert, you might say."

Vasilis shook his head, unable to believe his ears. "This is outrageous! Khar is a madman!"

"He is also the best."

"You cannot control him!"

"We'll see about that. Bring him in, Felix!"

Vasilis bit back his heated remark when the captain strode inside, garbed in his usual cape and armor.

"Your Majesty," he said with a bow. "I bring you the infamous traitor, Jedrek Khar." He then stepped aside and nodded to his guards, allowing the criminal to enter the room.

_Jedrek Khar._

Despite his shackles, overgrown beard, and filthy mop of dark hair, the man made an intimidating sight. Thick, muscled arms hung from broad shoulders, and his crimson rags hung from a tall and powerfully built body. This man had lost no strength during his imprisonment.

What most unnerved Vasilis, however, was the look in the man's dark, Tar Alemian eyes. They stared with a cold, soulless glare, a look Vasilis had only seen once before—when he had glimpsed the necromancer's eyes beneath his dark hood.

"Jedrek Khar," Ashton greeted the man, clasping his hands behind his back and regarding him with intrigue, "we meet again at last."

Khar eyed him in cold silence.

"Five years ago, during the so-called Retribution War, my father condemned you to our most notorious prison for crimes committed against my people—your allies. You are an assassin without loyalty, a soldier without allegiance, cut from the worst cloth. They say you would kill your own mother for the right price. My father was right to condemn you… and yet you are here."

Vasilis glanced at the criminal, but he stood motionless and silent as ever, his dark eyes fixed on Ashton.

"Interestingly enough, I am told you bear a vendetta of sorts against the man once known as General Harkinian, a vendetta you failed to act upon before your imprisonment, correct?"

Ashton turned to the man expectantly, and for a moment only the crackling fire replied.

"…He killed my brother." Khar's low growl finally broke the silence, and Vasilis barely understood his thick Tar Alemian accent. "One day I will have my revenge."

"That day may come sooner than you think," Ashton replied. "Like you, I wish to see this man dead. My soldiers have so far failed to capture him, but I feel this is a job better suited for a man like you. Your skills are unparalleled, and they say you've never failed an assignment."

Khar said nothing.

"My offer is simple," Ashton told him, eyeing the man closely. "Bring me his head, and I will grant your freedom. Bring him alive, and I will grant your freedom plus a small fortune. In fact, bring him alive and I will allow you to finish him... I only desire to witness it."

Vasilis turned away, disgusted that the king would strike such a bargain with a man like Khar.

"I have two more conditions," Ashton added, raising a finger. "Your reputation precedes you, Khar. If the queen—my betrothed—happens to be in this man's company, you will bring her to me alive and _untouched_." Ashton emphasized the last word, speaking slowly and with exaggerated clarity. "If I learn you laid so much as a finger on her, you will be executed.

"Second, you have three weeks to complete this assignment. If you fail I will have you returned to your prison immediately. If you foolishly choose to flee, you will be hunted down and killed on sight."

The king then folded his arms and studied the man with narrowed eyes. "Have I made myself clear?"

Vasilis watched as a slow, sinister grin stretched across the madman's face.

"Consider him dead."

**xxxxxxx**

I sat in the tent Link and I shared, absently stirring an untouched bowl of porridge Cleia had brought me. It was midday, and while the cooks did not serve midday meal, Cleia always gave me something extra because of the baby.

Outside the changing leaves fluttered in the chilled breeze, and grey clouds filled the sky, forever blocking the sun's warmth and light. I watched the tent flaps rustle with the occasional draft, contemplating the past week's events. Between Link's incident and Kakariko's destruction, the days had slowly dragged by, heavy with sorrow and fear.

The morning after Kakariko's attack, I had woken to find myself in the Shadow Temple's entrance chamber. Impa had brought us there at first light and extinguished the torches, closing the door into the Temple. The Stalfos had already fled the dawn, and the fires in Kakariko had been put out. The danger had passed, and the slow recovery had begun.

Of course the Resistance had rushed to Kakariko's aid. Most of the people in the camp had gone to help in Goron City, where the survivors currently resided, while a smaller group of able men had risked their safety to help in the village itself. Impa was the only woman who had gone, and despite my worry she had returned every evening as promised.

While the Vandelians had also returned to assist in Kakariko, I vaguely wondered how Ashton planned to deal with the attack. The blame would surely fall to him. The public knew nothing about the necromancer, but everyone knew about the undead army Ashton commanded with his staff. Kakariko's destruction would not cost him the throne, but it would certainly rouse suspicion and further distrust.

My primary concern, however, remained with Link, who had begun his own gradual recovery.

At Impa's request, Darunia had met us in the Graveyard that morning after the attack to carry Link—cloaked and hooded—all the way back the camp. Link had remained unconscious for the next two days. Even after he woke the afternoon of the third day, he had been so weak and disoriented he couldn't speak. He remained an invalid for two more days, and I cared for him in every way I could, making sure he regained his strength.

Until recently I had imagined the cleansing as some magical treatment, one that not only reversed the curse but helped restore Link's mental and physical wellbeing. The strain on his body had been far greater than I anticipated, and the consequences frightened me. Impa had assured me his experience with the necromancer had likely worsened his condition, but that brought me little comfort. Over and over I remembered the way he had struggled against his crude bindings, screaming with agony... The scene so vividly reminded me of my earlier visions, when I had witnessed the necromancer torturing Link...

I shook my head, pushing that horrid image away. We had saved Link's life, but the cleansing harmed him almost as much as resisting the curse. How many more times could he endure it? How could he survive for six more months?

_Almost five now, _I reminded myself. As if it made any difference.

"Kakariko..."

I dropped my spoon when Link's weak voice broke through my thoughts. Jumping from my chair, I crossed the tent to stop him from leaving his bed. Weakness prevented him from doing so, however, and I forced him back down against his pillow with ease.

"Shh, lie back," I soothed. "It's all right..."

His blue eyes met mine, alert and anxious, and he grabbed my arm with a surprisingly tight grip.

"The necromancer," he rasped. "Is he...?"

I shook my head, partly stunned by his improved awareness. "There was no trace of him when we found you."

He closed his eyes and bowed his head, drawing his own conclusion.

"...And Kakariko?" he whispered, releasing my arm.

With carefully chosen words I told him the aftermath of the attack, taking care to exclude the more painful details. He listened in silence, then closed his eyes, grimacing as though in pain.

"It's all my fault," he choked. "Kakariko burned because of me…"

"Link—"

"He threatened to kill them all… He wouldn't stop unless… unless I…"

I brought my hand to his cheek, forcing him to look me in the eyes.

"That was his crime," I said gently. "Not yours."

"No, I allowed it!" he cried. "I knew I couldn't face him… I—I wasn't strong enough. But he forced me… The pain… I thought he would kill me, and I—I couldn't…"

Again I tried to soothe him, but he shook his head and pulled away, inconsolable.

"I felt something... give way inside me," he told me, his eyes going distant. "And the pain just... vanished. I felt myself sit up and leave the bed… I put on my belt and my cloak, as though nothing was wrong. I was in a trance; I couldn't control my own actions… It terrified me," he whispered.

I stroked his hand, still trying to comfort him as I listened.

"He told me to meet him in the Shadow Temple—and to bring him the Ocarina. So I… I took it from your bag, and I played the song…"

Tears glistened in his eyes, but he forced himself to meet my concerned gaze.

"I should have tried harder to resist... but a part of me wanted to go, to spare the people in Kakariko. Maybe that's why he was able to control me…"

He breathed a quiet, tired sigh, closing his eyes and lying back against his pillow. Already his explanation had tired him. My concern suddenly resurfaced, suppressing my curiosity.

"Link, darling, you should rest," I urged him gently. "We can talk about this later..."

But he shook his head and opened his eyes, determined to finish his story.

"I reached the temple, lit the torches with magic, and went inside, all without hesitation," he told me. "I was a prisoner in my own body, aware but powerless. He told me where to go… And there he was, standing before me.

"He told me to place the Ocarina at his feet, and I obeyed… But then he asked for the location of the Stones, and I knew… I knew what he wanted."

Link looked up at me then, his pale face filled with sorrow.

"Obeying him meant placing Hyrule in danger, and betraying everyone I love... My body screamed to obey, but I fought back. I thought of you and the baby... and despite everything I felt myself hesitate. It was the smallest form of resistance, but the pain... I thought it would tear me apart. But then…"A look of awe passed over his face, and his voice grew stronger.

"Then the Triforce started to glow on my hand, and I felt this rush of… incredible strength… So I grabbed my dagger and I _flew_ at him." Link spoke through clenched teeth, eyes narrowed with rage. "I stabbed him, right in the heart, again and again… until he shoved me away. By then my strength had already left me, and I felt nothing but excruciating pain… especially here." Link pressed a trembling hand to his heart. "He shouted something, and I felt myself hit the floor… That's the last I remember."

"That's how we found you," I whispered. "Lying there on the floor..."

Link looked at me, his brow furrowed. "How did you find me?"

"I had a vision. I saw you in the Shadow Temple with the Ocarina."

"When did you see this?"

I swallowed nervously. "Shortly before it happened."

"And you didn't tell me?" he demanded, anger strengthening his voice. "You didn't stop me?"

"I didn't think it would happen so soon! You were still so weak, and I—I left you for only a few minutes..." I trailed off as guilt smothered my defenses. "I'm so sorry," I whispered.

Link studied me for a moment, then lowered his gaze. "No, I'm sorry... I gave into him." Then he looked at me again, his brow raised with anxiousness. "The Ocarina—did he take it?"

I sighed but forced myself to meet his desperate gaze.

"...We assume so. Impa went back to look for it, but..." I shook my head and fell silent.

Link looked away, and a heavy silence fell between us.

"You must be furious with me," he finally said.

My head snapped up.

"Furious?" I stammered. "I nearly lost you that night. Right now I'm just glad you're awake and strong enough to talk like this. We'll get the Ocarina back, Link. The necromancer can't do anything without the Stones anyway."

"You should never have left the camp," Link said, anger darkening his tone. "It was dangerous to come after me; you know that."

I paused, pressing my lips together. I had expected him to broach the subject at some point, but it irritated me nonetheless.

"I could not stay behind knowing you could die."

"You have no right to make that decision! How many times must I tell you this? How many risks will you take before… before something goes terribly wrong?"

I swallowed hard, refusing to be berated like a child. "You expect me to just sit around while—"

"I expect you to consider your safety! Don't you understand? Compared to that child I am _nothing_. Hyrule will carry on without me; _you_ will carry on without me. That child is the future, not me!"

"Stop it!" I shot to my feet, glaring down at him. "How dare you say this rubbish to me? This child isn't even born yet, and already you're removing yourself from the picture? If you think I will let our son or daughter grow up without a father, think again!"

Link fell silent but held my gaze, and as always I struggled to read him.

"And you have no right to lecture me about safety, not this time. Had you been in my place you would have done the same—you would never sit around knowing I might never return!"

I stood there with my hands clenched, struggling to control my breathing as I waited for him to speak. But he simply stared at me, wearing that same guarded expression. Angrily I turned to snatch my porridge off the nearby table and thrust the bowl into his hands.

"You eat that," I snapped. Then I turned and left the tent, wanting to get away before I broke down completely.

I had barely reached the nearest tree before I dropped to my knees and burst into tears. I wept silently, not wanting him to hear.

I wasn't sure what upset me more—the fact that I cared more about Link's safety than my own child's protection, or that Link might not have done the same for me. I had accused him of doing so, but in truth I doubted my words. And while I had demanded he live for our child, a selfish confession lay behind those selfless words—one I was no longer sure he shared.

_I can't lose you._

Considering the way he had looked at me, I suspected he had seen right through me. But what had been in his eyes? Guilt? Anger? Understanding? Disappointment? Without our bond, I couldn't know for sure.

Before long the sound of light footsteps crunching the dried, fallen leaves drew my attention, and I lifted my head to see Impa approach.

"You're back early," I greeted her, hoping I had dried all trace of my tears.

She shook her head with a sigh and settled down beside me. "It was too risky for me to stay. The village is swarming with Vandelians. Others can avoid them, but I'm too recognizable. I doubt I'll be able to go back..."

She trailed off and furrowed her brow before gently grabbing my chin.

"You've been crying," she said. "What's wrong? Is Link all right?"

"He's awake," I murmured, pulling away. "And well enough to scold me."

She arched a white brow. "Does he remember anything that happened?"

I gave a solemn nod.

"How much?"

"Everything… more or less."

"Tell me."

I drew a deep breath and summarized everything Link had told me. She listened with her chin resting against her palm, remaining deep in thought even after I had finished. Then suddenly she straightened, her eyes widening with realization.

"It can't be," she whispered.

"What?" I asked, immediately concerned. "What is it?"

She did not answer but rose to her feet and strode toward the tent. I hurried after her, catching the flap she had flung aside.

Link still sat propped against his pillow, the half empty bowl on his lap. He barely managed Impa's name before she crossed the tent and placed her hands on his head, furrowing her brow with deep concentration.

Just a few moments passed before she released him and lowered her hands.

"It's as I feared," she murmured.

"What is?" I asked, impatience sharpening my tone.

She glanced at me before meeting Link's inquisitive gaze. "Zelda told me what happened in the Shadow Temple," she said, "and I suggest you stop brooding over the necromancer's escape. The reason you failed to kill him is because you are Blood Bound to him. Do you understand what that means?"

I froze, nearly forgetting to breathe. I knew what it meant.

"It means your life is tied to his," Impa said sternly, her eyes boring into Link's. "So you best thank the gods you failed. Because taking his life would have meant forfeiting your own."


	38. Chapter XXXVIII

AN: Well, this chapter did not go at all as planned, and I'm just glad to be done with it. The editing stage was very choppy, and I kept changing things at the last minute. I can't bring myself to reread this another time, so I just hope I smoothed out all the wrinkles, typos, etc. *sigh* Hope you enjoy it more than I did!

Also, I want to thank everyone for taking the time to leave feedback. Your reviews, be them long or short, help me improve my writing and find inspiration, and I really appreciate you taking the time to post them. :)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXXVIII

Link stared at Impa, registering her words before looking away, momentarily stunned. I sank onto a nearby stool, pressing a hand to my pounding heart as I realized just how close he had come to death.

"Tell me everything you know," Link murmured.

Impa crossed her arms and breathed a quiet sigh.

"A Blood Bond is another Sheikan invention," she said quietly. "Another ancient one… The necromancer must have feared the Black Echo would not be enough to protect him, so he cast a Blood Bond as well. It would have been easy enough to attempt during your imprisonment, except for one very obvious problem…"

Link lifted his head, as did I, but his eyes remained on Impa.

"Casting a Blood Bond requires incredible power," she said. "Normally, a single Bond is performed using the combined magic of multiple sorcerers—or some alternate source."

Silence fell, and I knew we had arrived at the same conclusion.

"Which supports the theory that he is somehow involved with Ganondorf and the Triforce of Power," Link murmured.

"My thoughts exactly," Impa said, glancing toward me. "One would not need the Triforce of Power to cast a Blood Bond, but it is one explanation."

"Why didn't you detect this sooner?" I asked her, frustration sharpening my tone.

"Because I didn't think to look for it," she replied calmly. "The trace is buried deep under the Black Echo. Like I said, it's a very rare and powerful spell. I didn't consider the possibility until now. When you told me Link blacked out even despite the Triforce's interference I suspected something more than the Echo."

"But Link has attacked the necromancer before," I reminded her, "and he was still able to escape the prison…"

_And then suffered from illness for days_, I reminded myself.

"That was different," Impa replied. "Link had completely tapped into the Triforce's power at that point—or at least more so than he did during this recent attack. Back in the desert, the Triforce controlled his actions and ensured his escape, but this time Link consciously chose to attack. I'm sure he suffered the effects of the Blood Bond that first time as well, but it went unnoticed because he was already in such terrible condition."

We both turned to Link, expecting him to contribute. But he gazed unseeingly into his bowl, deep in thought—or perhaps memory.

"…I don't suppose this Blood Bond works both ways," he muttered.

I stared at him, momentarily stunned that he would ask such a thing, especially in front of me.

"Both ways…?" Impa furrowed her brow, regarding him with disapproval. "No, Link, it doesn't."

"Why would you even ask something like that?" I snapped. "You want to plunge a knife into your own chest?"

"I don't _want_ that, Zelda—"

"But you are willing to do it?"

He turned his head to meet my gaze, and the certainty in his eyes frightened me.

"If it became my only option—"

"That would never be an _option!_"

"All right, all right, let's calm down," Impa spoke over me, reaching over to caress my shoulder. "Zelda, don't worry; we won't let him do anything of the sort. Link, stop this suicidal nonsense; it's not helping anyone. All we know is we must make sure the necromancer lives, at least until you are cured and the Bond is lifted."

"So it can be lifted?" I asked, turning to her.

"If we can cleanse him of the Echo, we should be able to lift the Bond."

I released a quiet breath and nodded, but Link simply turned back to his porridge, idly mixing the cold, pasty substance in silence.

"We can talk more about this later," Impa said. "Right now Link needs to eat something—something better than this." She took the bowl from his hands, and I stepped forward to take it from her.

"I will get him something," I declared. "You make sure he doesn't leave this bed—and maybe talk some sense into him while you're at it."

I then strode out of the tent, glad to escape the tension before either could say another word.

.

Link and I remained distant the rest of the day. I stayed in the tent, still unwilling to leave his side for long periods of time. We had yet to share an actual conversation, and we spoke only when necessary. Link slept most of the time, as he was still very weak, so we rarely interacted anyway. I hated the silence between us, but I was too angry with him to break it.

Yet something more than anger kept me silent. Guilt, too, had haunted me ever since Link confessed what had happened in the Shadow Temple. My vision of that incident had led me to believe he would succumb to the curse and obey the necromancer, but in the end he had done the opposite. He had found the strength to resist, knowing it could kill him. And he had done it after thinking of me, of his family. The _Khaverte d' Refero_ was a powerful curse indeed, but I should have known Link's will was stronger.

_You are an impossible, infuriating man, _I thought, turning to study his sleeping form, _but I will never doubt you again._

**xxxxxxx**

The leaders arranged a meeting the following afternoon, one Link insisted on attending. He, Impa, and I had spent the later hours of the morning arguing about our next course of action, and he refused to make any agreements until we met with the other leaders. Impa and I had objected, saying he needed another day of bed rest, but of course Link dismissed our concerns.

"_If I can summon the energy to argue with you two," _he had declared, _"I'm well enough to attend a meeting."_

His energy had indeed begun to return, thanks to the cleansing, but he was still unsteady on his feet, and he tired easily. For the past two days Link had struggled with anxiety, frustration, and guilt, which understandably left him in a cross mood. Normally he would practice swordplay to vent these pent up feelings, but he was still too weak for such exertion.

He was, however, well enough to walk to Goron City, so we allowed him to attend the meeting.

.

The murmur of conversation grew steadily louder as Darunia led Link, Impa, and me toward our usual conference room. All of the leaders had returned to the camp by this point, and I knew Clef would be there as well. Seeing his children again after months of separation had surely helped lift him out of his previous depression. They had been staying with Cleia's family in Kakariko before they all moved to the Resistance camp after the attack. Their reunion had been a happy one, but it also sharpened the pain of Siena's absence. The uncertainty of her fate weighed upon everyone's minds, and Clef could never regain his old self until she had returned.

A lively crowd filled the conference chamber, as everyone talked amongst each other with loud, enthusiastic tones. Shadows danced along the cavernous walls, brought to life by the bright, flickering torches. An energy charged the air, born from the excitement surrounding the impending Final Strike—and the end of our civil war.

_If all goes according to plan, that is._

The noise erupted into cheers as the leaders realized Link had attended. They greeted him with firm handshakes and friendly claps to his shoulders, gestures he warmly returned. I could see the attention embarrassed him, but a smile brightened his tired face. I, too, could not resist their optimism as I greeted each leader.

When the noise finally quieted, and everyone had taken their seats, Clef rose to begin the meeting.

"Welcome, friends," his deep, strong voice filled the room, "and thank you for coming. The time has come to review our preparations before the Final Strike. I realize we're all familiar with the basics, but there are some things I must bring to your attention."

Link watched him closely, wearing a solemn, unreadable expression. His friendship with Clef remained strong as ever, but I knew Link blamed himself for Siena's imprisonment—and that he feared some part of Clef blamed him too. Trying to convince him otherwise was futile; nothing but Siena's rescue would quell that fear.

"As you all know," Clef went on, "winter is nearly upon us, but even if it wasn't, what happened to Kakariko was unforgivable. It seems Ashton has less control over the undead than he claims, and he must be stopped before he devastates our kingdom any further."

The room burst into cheers of agreement, and I saw Link force a smile. The theory that Ashton had caused the attack upon Kakariko was something Impa and I had fabricated to explain the incident without involving Link. It was a lie, more or less, but a necessary one grounded in truth.

"We must unleash the Final Strike by the end of this month," Clef stated. "As we've already established, our chance of success is strong, thanks to the general's negotiations with the Gorons and the Gerudo. Even so, our victory is hardly guaranteed, and so we must prepare for the possibility of failure."

He paused to take a deep breath, and the others listened in silence.

"If we should fail," Clef continued, "the people staying in the camp will be relocated into Goron City until they each find a better alternative. We—the Resistance leaders—will plan to regroup as soon as possible, ideally in late spring or early summer."

Murmurs filled the room but quickly fell silent when Impa stepped forward to speak.

"The matter of Queen Zelda's safety must also be addressed," she said. "Because we cannot predict the outcome of this Final Strike, we have decided to hold our attack until Lady Zelda has been moved to a safer, more long-term location in the Gerudo Fortress."

"How can she possibly reach the Fortress?" Derrick inquired. "With the bridge down there's no way into the Valley."

"I have been in contact with Queen Nabooru, and there is another way in—a secret entrance of sorts. In short, a team of Gerudo will meet Lady Zelda a ways outside the Valley and escort her to the Fortress. I will spare you the details, but rest assured everything has been carefully planned. Once she is safe there, Nabooru will notify me in secret. Then, only then, can we begin the Final Strike."

"Will you travel to the desert as well?" Theodus asked her.

"I will accompany Lady Zelda on her journey until we meet with the Gerudo," Impa replied solemnly. "Then I will return here, where I am needed most."

I sighed softly, wishing she could come to the Fortress with me. But it was as she said; the Resistance needed her more. Link also needed another cleansing soon, and Impa could not enter the Chamber of the Sages from anywhere but the portal outside the Shadow Temple.

"And what of the general?" Aiden spoke up, casting Link a concerned look. "Is he well enough to lead the Final Strike as planned?"

"No, he is not," Impa said promptly. "He will not participate in the Final Strike at all. Not only would it endanger him, but it could jeopardize the mission. The general is aware of this."

Link said nothing, but his calm expression betrayed his agreement.

"Where will you go if we fail?" Aiden asked him.

"I will take refuge elsewhere, until it is safe to regroup."

"At the Fortress?"

Link hesitated, casting me a furtive glance. "…If possible, yes."

"If possible?" Clef's voice sounded, gaining everyone's attention. "General, this seems like a roundabout course of action. I say you travel to the desert immediately and remain there with Lady Zelda until you have recovered."

Hope fluttered through me like a gust of fresh air, but I quickly shut it out. I knew Link would refuse.

"I will not leave," he told Clef. "I cannot."

I kept my eyes on him, wanting him to feel my accusing gaze, but his attention remained with Clef. Impa and I had already discussed this very idea with him earlier, but Link could not bring himself to leave the Resistance during their final act of rebellion. I knew a part of him longed to go with me, since I could very well stay at the Fortress until I delivered our child. But, as always, his sense of duty overshadowed his personal desires.

I realized Link had an obligation to stay. Countless Resistance fighters hadn't seen their loved ones in months; I understood why Link would deny himself the luxury they had sacrificed. But they did not struggle with a powerful, painful curse every moment of every day. I had seen Link narrowly escape death too many times to care about duty. I wanted him with me because he would be safest with me.

"I know you have a duty to remain here, as our leader," Clef told him, "and you have honored that duty admirably. Under normal circumstances, no one would question your place here. But you have been fighting this ailment for months, and your life is in serious danger. As Captain, it is my duty to ensure your protection, and I insist you accompany Lady Zelda to the Fortress, where you can focus on your recovery."

I held my breath as I turned to Link, but his expression only hardened.

"I never asked for anyone's protection," he said in a quiet, controlled voice. "And I will not allow any special treatment for the sake of my safety. I started this Resistance, and I will not abandon it."

Clef sighed quietly. "With all due respect, General, placing yourself at unnecessary risk seems more like abandonment. We need you to survive this war. Ashton can make all the declarations he wants, but you are still the Prince of Hyrule—still our future king!"

His passionate words rang through the small, silent chamber, followed by a collected shout of agreement. Gooseflesh rose on my arms, and pride burned in my chest.

Link's gaze moved across the room before he bowed his head for a brief moment.

"You honor me," he said softly, lifting his head again. "And I cannot express what that means to me. But I am not Hyrule's future. Not anymore."

My smile wilted as the warm feeling in my chest grew cold.

"The Gerudo cannot protect me," Link continued. "This curse destroys me from the inside. I will not be safe in the desert, or anywhere else."

"Not true," Impa spoke up. Heads turned as she stepped forward, her arms folded across her chest. "Your best chance of survival lies with Lady Zelda, and separating yourself from her would be an unnecessary risk. You know this."

Link held her gaze before bowing his head, weighing the truth of her words. I could see how torn he was, and a twinge of sympathy stirred within me. I knew that feeling all too well.

_Please, Link…_

His eyes met mine, and wordlessly I pleaded with him to comply. Then his gaze moved around the room, studying the men who silently awaited his decision. Finally he sighed.

"If everyone here unanimously asks that I accompany her Majesty to the Fortress," he said quietly. "Then I will honor your wishes."

Clef nodded and turned to look around the room.

"Let's have a vote, then. All in favor of the General's relocation raise your hand and say 'aye.'"

All hands lifted toward the rounded stone ceiling. "Aye!"

Powerful relief swept through me, lighting my face with a grateful smile. Link did not smile but merely nodded, regarding his men with respect.

"It's decided, then," he said quietly. "I leave for the desert."

**xxxxxxx**

Once the meeting was adjourned, and we had exchanged our farewells with the leaders, Link, Impa, and I began our preparations immediately. We found no reason to linger. The sooner we reached the Fortress, the sooner the Resistance could attack.

Impa accompanied Link back to the tent while Lieutenant Aiden and a soldier named Nathan went to ready the horses. The two of them had been chosen to escort us on our journey, though they would turn back with Impa once we had met with Nabooru's guards.

I did not head back toward the tent but instead went to find Heather, wanting to share one last walk with her before I left for Gerudo Valley.

"So you will be staying in the desert until the baby is born?" she inquired as we strolled through the main area of the camp. Around us people carried out their usual responsibilities, such as scrubbing wet laundry into a bucket of soapy water or hanging clean clothes to dry. A group of children ran ahead of us, giggling as they jumped into an enormous pile of brown leaves. I smiled gently, trying to recall a time when I engaged in such play.

"At least that long," I replied. "Possibly longer, depending on what happens."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Heather said, studying me with concern. "The desert is awfully hot for a Hylian, especially one who's expecting."

"Link isn't very happy about it," I murmured. "But we can't think of a better plan. The Fortress is the safest place for us right now, and their leader, Nabooru, is a dear friend of ours. We'll be in good hands… but what about you?" I asked her, wanting to change the subject. "We must all prepare for the worst. Will you stay in Goron City if the Final Strike fails?"

"Until spring comes, yes," Heather sighed. "Then Adam wants to leave Hyrule, at least until everything is made right again. He fears for my safety, since I am a fugitive of sorts."

She gave a short laugh, though I sensed it was forced, and my heart sank as I recalled everything Heather had endured because of me.

"Not that I blame you, my Lady," she added quickly, giving me a reassuring glance. "I chose to take those risks, and I don't regret it."

"I regret it," I whispered. "You will have those scars the rest of your life." The memory of those six lashings she suffered on my behalf was forever burned into my mind.

"That was Ashton's doing, my Lady. They no longer give me pain, and they have made me a stronger person. I never thought I could endure something like that, and I'm proud to know I have."

I stopped walking and turned to face her. She paused and looked back at me, an inquisitive look lining her young, pretty face. I remembered the day I first met her, all those months ago, and the scene came to me with stunning clarity. She had come running down the corridor, anxious to defend her betrothed after he had been charged with desertion. She had been so innocent then; never had I imagined such strength resided within her slender frame.

Now, as I studied her face, I saw much of her naivety had gone. She carried herself with confidence, a quality softened by her gentle personality. Heather had indeed matured, but I had also learned to see beyond her seemingly meek exterior.

Gently I brought a hand to her face, brushing some dark curls aside.

"You are an amazing young woman, Heather," I told her with a smile. "I am blessed to have met you, and I will never forget the kindness you have shown me."

She blushed humbly, but her hazel gaze remained with mine.

"And I will never forget yours," she replied, returning my smile. "I'm… I can still hardly believe we are friends, but I am so glad we are—and honored."

My smile grew sad. "That friendship doesn't have to end here. My promise to help you and Adam start your new life together still stands, but I hope you will continue to visit me even after you have settled."

Heather's smile widened. "Of course, my Lady. I will visit regularly if you like."

"I would like that, very much so."

"It's a promise, then," she said as we resumed our walk.

Our conversation soon came to an end as we approached my tent. There we exchanged a warm embrace and wished each other the best. Walking away from her felt surreal, and I prayed it would not be our last meeting.

Although it wasn't something a queen should do, I did turn to look back, wanting one last look at her. Our eyes met, as she had turned to do the same, and we shared one last smile before going our separate ways.

.

The tent was empty when I stepped inside, which unnerved me. A bundle of clothes, Link's hookshot, some knives, and _Val__é__shar_ lay on the table, signs that he had paused halfway through his packing. Since he couldn't possibly have teleported away this time, I forced myself to ignore my fears and start my own packing.

_I'll wait five minutes_, I told myself. _And if he isn't back I will go find him._

Placing my own bundle of clothes on the table, I went to retrieve the dagger I kept under my mattress. Just as I bent down to lift it, however, a sudden wave of dizziness came over me. I paused and sank onto the edge of the bed, closing my eyes as I waited for it to pass. I focused on my breathing, listening to the air enter and leave my lungs until my lightheadedness faded away. Loose strands of hair stuck to my face, and I dragged my sleeve across my forehead before standing up.

A slight pain shot through my abdomen as I straightened, making my heart skip a beat, and nervously I rubbed the sore area. Cleia had assured me some minor pain was normal, but it frightened me nonetheless.

A gentle hand on my back drew my attention, and immediately I knew it was Link.

"Are you all right?" he murmured, his voice soft with concern.

I pulled away and moved to the nearby table, shoving the dagger into my traveling bag. "I'm fine."

I was glad he had returned, but that was all. My anger still rendered me cold and distant, and in no mood for affection.

But as I reached for my clothes another sharper pain stopped me. I gasped and dropped the bundle, clutching my stomach as panic rushed in.

_No… Stop, please stop…_

The pain throbbed again, a dull ache that time, but the memory of my miscarriage had already clamped onto my mind. Dizzy and short of breath, I found myself incapable of logical thought. Desperately I snatched my skirt, convinced I could feel blood on my legs. "Link, I… I'm…"

Immediately he was there, gently embracing me from behind. I dropped my skirt, having seen nothing, but the phantom sensation remained.

"You're all right," he soothed. "Remember what Cleia said; some pain is normal. It will pass..."

I closed my eyes, trying to remember Cleia's exact words, but all I knew was the pain. I braced myself, convinced it would happen, convinced I would lose another…

"Tell me where it hurts," Link said, his soft voice luring me back from the brink of panic. Slowly he ran his hands along my belly, letting them pause near my hips. "Right here?"

I gave a quick nod, and a pleasant warmth began to radiate from his palms, gently spreading through my abdomen. With it came a rush of relief, clearing some of the fog from my frantic thoughts.

"Don't," I whispered, grabbing his wrists. "No magic..."

"I have strength for this," he assured me. "Just relax… Take deep breaths…"

I let myself rest against him, breathing deeply as he caressed me with slow, soothing strokes. The heat from his hands and his tender, familiar touch allowed me to calm down. Slowly my fear began to subside with the pain, leaving me physically and emotionally drained.

"How are you feeling?" Link murmured after I had gone quiet. "Any better?"

I nodded slowly, still focusing on his hands and his voice—when a sudden onslaught of tears surged within me. I turned in his arms and embraced him, clutching his back as I fought to stay quiet. He held me close, murmuring hushed, soothing words as he rubbed slow circles along my back.

"Do you want me to go find Cleia?" he asked me quietly.

"No… I'll see her before we leave. I'm sure it's nothing; I… I just panicked."

"I don't blame you," he soothed, resting his head against mine. "Can I get you anything?"

I shook my head. "I just need a minute."

We held each other for a long while, our previous argument momentarily forgotten. Link didn't speak again until I had stopped trembling.

"…I've been meaning to apologize," he said softly. "About earlier."

I opened my eyes but otherwise made no move to acknowledge his words.

"You were right," he continued, stroking my long, loose hair, "when you said I would have done the same, had I been in your place. I could never have stayed behind, knowing I might never see you again. I had no right to judge you, and I'm sorry I snapped at you."

Relief swept through me, loosening the knot I'd felt in my chest since the night of his cleansing. But it could not come undone, not while his self-destructive words still rang in my ears.

Before I could find a way to broach this subject, a familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.

"I'm glad to see you two have made up."

We quickly pulled apart to see Impa peeking inside the tent, one of the flaps grasped in her gloved hand.

I turned away from Link, hoping my blush didn't show. "Are the horses ready?"

"Yes, and the others are set to leave," she replied. "Are you two… all right?"

"We're nearly finished," I said quickly, moving to shove the rest of our belongings into our travel bags. "I want to see Cleia one last time."

"_We _want to see Cleia," Link corrected.

"Of course you do," Impa said. "Which is why I brought her along. Clef is here too."

I turned to see the other flap move aside and reveal Cleia's face.

"As if I'd let you leave without seeing me one last time," she smiled, stepping inside the tent. "As your nurse and your friend of course."

"Thank you, Cleia," Link said. "Please examine Zelda—she felt some pain just before you got here."

Cleia turned to me, concern lining her round face. "What sort of pain?"

"It was rather mild," I murmured, glancing at Impa, who also studied me with concern. "It started as dull throb here," I traced my fingers over my lower abdomen, "then it grew sharper, but then it… went away," I finished, feeling my face heat again. "It didn't hurt much; it just frightened me."

"And how are you doing now?"

I shrugged. "I feel fine."

"No bleeding or anything?"

I shook my head and swallowed, wetting my dry throat. This seemed to trigger Impa's motherly sixth sense, as she moved to pour me a glass of water. I thanked her and sipped it while Cleia asked me additional questions, all of which I answered "no."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," she assured me, reaching over to pat my arm. "There's a lot going on inside you, so there's bound to be some discomfort here and there. As long as it doesn't become intensely painful, and as long as there's no bleeding, you and the baby should be fine."

"What if it grows worse?" Link inquired. "Should she really be traveling in her condition?"

Cleia sighed. "Honestly, a miscarriage could happen no matter where she goes. She's made it past the first three months, and she's in good health, so as long as you keep a gentle pace I can't see why anything should go wrong. And of course make sure she gets enough food and rest."

"Of course."

"You too, Link. You're the one who's barely well enough to travel."

"I'll be fine, Cleia. We're not walking there, after all."

"You're not taking a carriage either. You'll be exhausted in no time, and I don't want you pushing yourselves."

"They won't," Impa said, eyeing the two of us.

Once Cleia had finished examining us, she removed a satchel she has slung across her chest and handed it to Impa.

"Medicine for your journey," she explained. "Mostly for pain and fever, but I packed some herbs for nausea and anxiety. You also have everything you'll need to treat wounds."

"Cleia, you truly think of everything," I smiled. "Thank you so much."

The four of us then stepped outside the tent, where Clef waited at a polite distance.

"I came to say goodbye as a friend," he smiled. "Things were too formal back there."

Smiling, I came forward to give him a warm hug. He stood nearly a foot taller than me, and my head barely reached his chest, but we had grown quite used to it over the years.

"Thank you for speaking up at the meeting, Clef," I murmured, meeting his dark brown gaze as we pulled away. "I had really started to believe I would have to leave Link behind."

"Well, I might have failed too, if Impa hadn't stared him down," he laughed. "And thank heavens the vote was unanimous, or Link would be staying."

He then turned to Link, who stood watching beside Impa with his arms crossed. I could see her hand on his back, holding him steady.

"I'll have you know neither Zelda nor Impa made me say those things earlier," Clef told him. "I spoke of my own concerns with my own words."

Link smiled gently. "I know. And I do appreciate that."

He stepped forward, and the two embraced like brothers.

"I don't like this, Clef," Link said, looking up at his comrade. "Running from danger is not what I do. And the responsibility of leading the Final Strike should never have fallen to you."

Clef crossed his arms, causing his sleeves to strain against his muscles. "Is that doubt I hear?"

Link gave him a dry look. "You know it isn't. I was supposed to use my magic against Ashton's, but now we've lost that advantage."

I watched him with a frown, knowing he meant the Master Sword.

"That was never a crucial part of the plan," Clef said. "As long as we can keep the undead out of Castletown, we've still got a fighting chance. And it's a walled city," he added with a hint of his old jest, "so that shouldn't be too difficult."

Link sighed, and Clef patted his shoulder.

"You have more than enough on your plate. Leave this last step to us."

I moved closer then, reaching for Clef's arm.

"We have absolute faith in you and the rest of the Resistance," I told him firmly. "And we will pray for a swift victory."

"Thank you, Zelda. May we meet again in a better place and in good company—within this lifetime, I mean, Sisters be willing."

When we had all said our last goodbyes, Impa, Link, and I gathered our few belongings and headed off through the Woods around the camp—we thought it best to leave as discretely as possible. Aiden and Nathan awaited us with the horses, and they quickly moved to take our bags and secure them to our horses. Then the five of us mounted and formed a single-file line as Link led us away from the camp and into the wild.


	39. Chapter XXXIX

AN: Omigosh, this took forever again. D: I'm really sorry about that. I won't bother you with excuses (though I do have them), but I hope it's worth the wait! I'll get started on the next one asap!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XXXIX

We traveled without rest, riding as steadily as possible through the dense and twisted forest. Only when twilight had cast the trees in an eerie golden light did we stop to set up camp. We would rest all night and every night, Link informed us, as traveling after nightfall would be too dangerous. Ever since Ashton seized the throne, Hyrule had begun to fall into an age of darkness. Creatures of evil, like wolfos and stalfos, roamed freely by night, seeking their prey.

Of course, we also camped the entire night because Link and I needed the rest, but naturally he declined to share that fact.

We could not risk alerting anyone—or anything—to our presence with a fire, so we ate supper from the supply of cold, dry food we had brought along. Silently Nathan and Aiden divided the rations while Impa and Link created a magical barrier around our small camp. This would provide peace of mind while someone—meaning Aiden, Nathan, or Impa—kept watch.

We finished supper quickly, too tired and preoccupied to bother with much conversation. Link, Aiden, Nathan, and I retired into our tents, but Impa volunteered to take the first watch.

I had already settled into my bedroll when Link entered our tent. I lay with my back to him, still too angry to bid him goodnight. The night chill seeped through my blanket, but my mood was colder yet. And until Link revoked his suicidal declarations, my anger would remain. How could he talk of giving up like that, when he knew how it would devastate me?

A gentle hand on my waist interrupted my thoughts, and I stiffened as Link caressed my hip.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked me softly.

I nodded and shifted away from his touch. His hand paused, then slid up to my shoulder.

"Zelda…" He paused, searching for the right words. "…I know I've been… difficult lately…"

"If you're referring to your expressive willingness to destroy yourself," I said coldly, "then yes, you have."

Again he hesitated, releasing a quiet sigh.

"…I've always been prepared to die for the greater good," he said softly. "And I would give my life for you. But I would never throw it away… I would never abandon you."

The sincerity in his voice brought an ache to my chest, but his words triggered a painful memory: Ashton's voice, mocking me.

"_He abandoned you, Zelda."_

"…You did once."

The whisper escaped before I could stop it. Link's hand tensed on my shoulder, and I knew I'd struck a low blow.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, turning to look up at him. "That wasn't fair. You spared many lives that day—I don't hold it against you."

His hand left my shoulder as he pulled away.

"Yet I regret it."

I sat up and moved to face him, but he gazed down toward the ground, lost in his remorse.

"You regret saving so many lives?"

"I regret… my failure."

"Link—"

"If I had mastered my Gift, if I had embraced my power... learned to command it," he pressed his hand to his chest, "I would be free of this... and we wouldn't be here."

"You don't know where we would be," I argued gently. "You chose to keep your power at arm's length for a noble reason, and you have no reason to be ashamed of that. This is how the pieces have fallen, and all we can do is move forward. The gods have brought us this far, and they are watching over us, even now. Everything happens for a reason, Link."

He studied my face, and I could see my words brought him little comfort.

"You scared me the other day," I said quietly. "Hearing you talk like that… I feel like I'm losing you… like you're giving up this fight."

"I will never give up," he said, a familiar light returning to his eyes. "I was very angry when I said those things, and I'm sorry I upset you. I just… I've been reduced to a shadow of the person I used to be, and I don't know how to deal with it. Even if I chose to fully embrace my Gift, I'm too _weak_ to learn how."

He spat the words out and looked away, his jaw set with anger. I grabbed his hand, holding it tightly.

"You are not a shadow of anything," I told him, keeping my voice stern. "And you can't let yourself dwell on the negative like this. Think about it—think of everything we have overcome. You should be dead by now, but despite everything we still have each other. We still have a fighting chance, yet all you can think about is what you haven't accomplished."

He turned his head to meet my gaze, and I struggled to read his hard expression.

"I know you don't like this arrangement," I said gently, "but staying in the desert is the best choice for both of us right now."

"The best?" he exclaimed. "This is a desperate choice we've been forced to make. I don't want you on the road like this, and I don't want you delivering our child in the desert. I want you home in the castle, where you belong—_without_ Ashton."

"We don't know what will happen," I soothed. "If the Final Strike is successful, I will be back home long before then—_we _will be home."

"And if it fails—"

"If it fails, we will try again when the time is right. Darling, even if the Final Strike does succeed, you cannot face anyone as you are. Right now the most you can do is survive—for our people and for our child."

_And for me._

Link sighed and looked away. I knew he refused to place all his hope in another cleansing, even with my added power, and there was no use convincing him otherwise. I would just have to show him, when the day finally came.

_If it ever comes..._

"I'm supposed to be the one who protects you," he said, passion seeping into his quiet tone. "I'm supposed to be the one who steps forward, the one who ends the destruction… not who runs and hides."

"You're not running away any more than I am," I said gently. "The leaders understand that. You have done everything you can for the Resistance, and you have nothing to prove."

Link didn't reply, and whether my words comforted him, I could not tell.

"And you don't need to worry about me," I added, caressing his arm. "I have you here with me, and that's all I need."

He gave me a cynical look, and I kissed his cheek before he could voice some retort.

"Now go to sleep," I said, settling back onto my sleeping mat. "We have a long day ahead of us."

He sat motionless for a long time, so long I nearly drifted off. Finally I heard him lie down beside me, and another moment passed before he tentatively caressed my arm. Immediately I turned and curled up against him, tucking my head under his chin as he wrapped his arm around me. We hadn't shared a bed in weeks because of his illness, and we both craved the proximity.

Link pulled the blankets up over my shoulder and ran his hand along my back. Outside a howl tore through the night, rising above the noise of countless nocturnal critters. Link's arm tightened around me, but I had barely noticed the eerie sound. Drowsiness had dulled my senses, and lying in his arms brought me peace no distant howl could disturb.

**xxxxxxx**

The days passed in slow, repetitive monotony. We rose at first light, greeted by cloudy, dreary skies and lifeless landscape as we ate a hot breakfast cooked over a fire—something we could risk in the light of day. We rode throughout the day, allowing ourselves a break here and there—mostly for Link's or my sake. A dry meal always served as our supper, and I began to miss the hearty meals we had left behind in the camp. The food served back at the castle seemed like a distant dream, but I felt no longing for it. After witnessing the poverty and destruction that had forced so many into the Resistance camp, I felt no inclination to dream of royal indulgences.

An unnatural chill blanketed the land each night, one that had plagued Hyrule all summer long. Link and I kept warm by each other, but I worried how well Impa and the others fared without a campfire. And while my health seemed to withstand the conditions of our journey, Link's had only continued to decline. His scar's slow growth was hardly noticeable, but it pained him nonetheless. It kept him awake some nights and often weakened his appetite. Impa had tried making a special tea from Cleia's herbs, but it seemed natural remedies could not ease Link's unnatural pain.

Despite his ailing health, the previous tension between us had completely dissipated, and I cherished the closeness we had regained. Link no longer complained about his condition, and he cared for me in whatever ways he could. At night, if he had the energy, he would even heat his hands with magic and massage my sore muscles to help me sleep. Between him and Impa, I was more than well cared for.

There was little I could do for him in return, but I kept a close eye on him, watching for signs of pain. Sometimes I noticed him hunched over in his saddle, quietly struggling with the painful flares he often endured. At those times II would suppress my urge to help him, knowing it would only embarrass him. Sometimes he would recover after a few minutes.

Eventually, however, the curse—or perhaps the necromancer himself—struck with newfound aggression.

I had been watching Link as usual, noticing how he bowed his head and squeezed his reins until his hands shook.

"I need to stop and rest a while," I announced, my eyes still fixed on his rigid form.

That I had stopped for his sake was hardly a secret, but I no longer cared about his pride. Quickly I slowed my horse and dismounted to help him. He managed to dismount on his own, though he stumbled a bit and grasped the saddle to steady himself. Wrapping my arm around his waist, I led him away from our group, surprised by how quickly he could move. We had barely vanished behind the brush when he suddenly pushed me away and turned, falling to his knees and clutching his head. I dropped down beside him and lay a tentative hand on his back. His muscles tensed beneath my fingers.

"Don't," he hissed through clenched teeth, jerking away from my touch. "Stay away."

"I'm not leaving you," I said, forcing myself to keep some space between us.

He took labored breaths, bending forward until his head touched the ground. Hurried footsteps sounded behind me, and Impa appeared at his other side.

"Lay him on his back," she instructed me. I placed my hands on his shoulders and together we eased him back until his head rested in my lap.

"He's in my head," Link growled, his voice hoarse and strained. "Stay away from me!"

I brought my hand to his cheek, unsure whether he had spoken to us or to the necromancer.

"Listen to my voice," I told him, struggling to keep a calm, gentle tone. "Focus on every word I say… Hear me until you no longer hear him…" I probed my mind for a happy subject, plunging into our childhood and snatching the first available memory.

"…Remember my first attempt to learn fishing? We were children then, not even thirteen." I allowed myself a few seconds to picture the scene, recalling details to share with him. "You taught me how to cast, right in the castle gardens. Impa had promised to take us to Hylia, but I was impatient to learn."

I rambled, ignoring the tight, painful weight in my chest. All the while my trembling hands caressed his face, smoothing back his hair and tracing the hollowed curve of his cheek.

"We thought no one was around, but I cast with too much force, and it flew over a wall. We heard someone cry out, and when I tried to reel it back there was a wig—a man's wig—attached to the hook. It shocked me so much I gasped and dropped the rod…"

Link's breaths still came in quick, shallow gasps, and he fought to stay still as the pain coursed through his body. His clenched hands shook until I slipped my hand into his left and Impa grasped his right. He squeezed my fingers in a painfully tight grip, but I barely registered it.

"The man—I didn't recognize his voice—he started shouting and we fled to the other side of the gardens, abandoning the rod so he could retrieve the wig himself…"

I described our flight through the castle grounds, too focused on keeping my voice gentle to fully realize how frightened I was. _Please, please let this pass…_

"Finally we stopped to catch our breath, and I was mortified, but you… you couldn't stop laughing."

I felt a smile tug at my lips, despite my ever present terror. Tears trailed down my cheeks, falling onto his face before I brushed them away. "It was the first time I'd seen you laugh so hard…"

My breath hitched when a rush of heat throbbed against my fingers. Quickly I released his hand, seeing the faint glow of his Triforce symbol below his knuckles. The lower right triangle shone brighter than the other two. _Courage_.

Relief swept through me as his breathing gradually returned to normal. His body lay limp against the grass, and his pained expression softened into one of sheer exhaustion. The attack had passed.

"It was... so absurd," he whispered. "…Your first catch."

He opened his eyes and gave me a tired but genuine smile. Somehow I managed a small laugh, releasing my pent up stress in that quiet sound.

"Link," I choked, smiling back at him through my tears.

Carefully Impa wrapped her arm around him and slowly helped him sit up. "How are you feeling?" she asked him gently.

"I'm... much better now... thanks to you." He met my anxious gaze and reached for me, drawing me into a one-armed embrace. "I'm all right now," he soothed.

I clung to him, hiding my face against his neck as my terror faded back into the fear I carried every day.

"The necromancer," Impa murmured. "He tried to control you?"

"Yes," Link replied. "He... He put thoughts in my head, and the temptation to obey was... overwhelming..."

"He wanted you to harm us."

Link nodded, his hand slowly caressing my shoulder.

"But you weren't overwhelmed," I murmured, lifting my head to meet his gaze. "You resisted him, and the Triforce responded to your strength, just like before."

"It's not that simple," he sighed. "I don't understand what the Triforce does for me. I can't control it. I don't like relying on something I can't understand. And you helped me," he added softly, his eyes meeting mine. "I focused on your voice, and it helped me push him out of my mind."

"Or she helped you tap in the Triforce's power," Impa said. "Whatever happened, it's saved your life more than once. I'm sure you will come to understand it in time."

I studied him a moment, remembering his admission of regret a few days back.

"_Even if I chose to fully embrace my Gift, I'm too _weak_ to learn how."_

"I will help you," I offered, caressing his arm. "When we reach the Fortress. I can teach you everything I know about the Triforce. There's no knowing what you might be capable of."

Link looked away, breathing a quiet sigh before nodding his consent. I could almost hear his unspoken response, even without the bond: _That's what I'm afraid of. _

In the past I had offered to teach him about using the Triforce, but he had always declined.

"_I am a Keeper,"_ he told me once. _"I'm supposed to protect my piece, not use it."_

"_So what does that make me?"_ I had demanded, somewhat offended.

He had cast me one of his sweet, charming smiles. _"Far more gifted than I."_

Link had always believed my piece held an entirely different nature than his, especially in my hands. Basically, he believed I could do no wrong with the Triforce of Wisdom. He had never trusted himself with his own power, but it seemed desperation had opened his mind to new possibilities.

.

We rested half an hour more, as Link refused to stay any longer, then continued our journey without interruption until nightfall. Though Link hid it well, I could see the attack had both frightened and weakened him. He retired early, wordlessly entering our tent and collapsing onto his bedroll after barely touching his supper.

His rapid decline alarmed me. Barely a week had passed, and already the shadow of death loomed over him. How many more times would he suffer such an attack before we reached the Fortress? Before the sages performed another cleansing?

_How can he survive five more months like this?_

I had expressed my fears to Impa, but she assured me another cleansing would help him. The one I witnessed had been incomplete, she reminded me, and had lacked the long-term effects of a proper cleansing. Still, the thought of repeating that awful ritual frightened me, and I hoped we would find new answers in Link's own power.

That night he slept with his back to me, rigid and afraid. I snuggled up against him anyway, falling asleep with my arm around his waist and my face buried against his back. I did not fear him as he feared himself. On the contrary, I longed to comfort him in whatever way I could. Love was all I had to combat the darkness within him. I prayed it would be enough... for now.

**xxxxxxx**

_He sat in the darkness, illuminated by a single, dying torch. Nothing else existed beyond our black surroundings. I recognized the scene from previous visions, but its surreal nature made me think it a dream. A nightmare._

_His body sagged beneath his arms, which had been forced above his head and held by his wrists with thick, rusted chains. Ugly black tendrils covered his bare upper body, stretching over his thin, beaten form._

_"Link..."_

_My whisper echoed about the nothingness, loud and breathy. Slowly he lifted his head, revealing the arterial lines which framed his face. He looked so defeated, so lost... I knew what I saw wasn't real, but my tears came nonetheless. _

_I moved to rush toward him, but two strong hands clamped around my arms, halting me mid-step._

_"I don't think so, _dearest_," a familiar voice hissed in my ear._

_I turned my head, meeting his malicious emerald gaze. Dark crimson hair framed his sharp, angry features._

_"You are mine now," he seethed, tightening his grip. _

_"And he is mine," a second, deeper voice spoke as the other hand tightened its grasp on my arm. A chill crept down my spine, and I turned to glare into the necromancer's shadowy hood. _

_"You're wrong," I said, my voice dark with contempt. "He resists you. And I will save him."_

_The necromancer gave a short, sinister laugh._

_"Too late for that."_

_He turned to Link and lifted his hand, revealing long, tanned fingers. The chains holding Link's arms vanished, and he collapsed flat onto the cold, rocky ground._

_"Finish it," the necromancer commanded him. _

"_Link, don't!" I cried. "Don't listen to him!"_

"_Silence!" Ashton growled in my ear, jerking me back toward him._

_Link struggled to sit up, his face an image of confusion and sorrow._

"_Finish it!" the necromancer growled._

_Link bowed his head and slowly, as though entranced, climbed to his unsteady feet. I noticed something grasped in his hands, and my eyes widened when he raised it high above his head._

_The Master Sword. _

_He held it so the blade pointed toward the floor, the point hovering over his chest. Slowly he tilted back his head and closed his eyes, lifting the sword higher as if to strike..._

"_LINK, NO!"_

I jerked awake, the sound of metal piercing flesh and bone still ringing in my ears. Sweat drenched my brow, and my heart thundered against my ribs. I covered my mouth, muffling a sob I could not suppress.

"Zelda..."

I felt his hand brush my cheek, smoothing back my hair as he leaned over me. "Zelda, you're shaking..."

I turned and collapsed in his arms, struggling to stay quiet as another sob forced its way out. The dream had left me with countless emotions tightly knotted up inside, and I clung to him while they slowly, painfully unraveled. He did not bother to ask questions but patiently stroked my hair and murmured tender reassurances.

I held him for a long time, my arms around his waist and my cheek pressed to his chest. I focused on his touch, his voice... I wanted to fill my senses with him, to assure myself he was still there in my arms, not lost to the fate in my dream. What I saw had been a crude representation of my fears, but they did not have to be realized. The necromancer had said Link could not be saved, and while a part of me did fear that, I refused to accept it.

"What did you see?" Link asked me softly.

I shook my head against his chest. "I don't want to talk about it. It was just a dream."

_Not a vision. Just a dream. _

"You sure?"

I nodded, lifting my head to meet his concerned gaze. "We should probably wash up and join the others."

Link studied my face, lifting his hands to dry my tears.

"All right," he murmured. "But if you do want to talk, I'm right here."

I gazed back at him, letting his words sink in. Then I leaned closer to softly kiss the corner of his mouth.

"I know," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I know you are."

.

By the time we had scrubbed the sleep from our faces and washed up as best we could, the welcoming smell of breakfast had wafted into our tent—as it had every morning since we began our journey. What made that morning different, however, was the extra company we soon discovered outside.

Aiden and Nathan had taken over the cooking, but Impa sat off to the side with two women, studying a map on the ground and talking quietly. Both wore thick, dark clothing like the rest of us, for camouflage and warmth, but their long red hair stood out as sharply as the campfire flames.

"Gerudo," I breathed. Meeting them meant our journey was halfway over.

"Good morning," Aiden greeted, smiling in his usual cheerful way. "Those two arrived about an hour ago." He gave a brisk laugh. "Feisty duo. Not that I'm surprised."

We had no time to respond before the Gerudo jumped to their feet and hurried over to greet us. Immediately I recognized the taller woman as one who accompanied Nabooru and me to the necromancer's lair all those months ago.

"I am Keira," she said. "We have met before, when we traveled into the Wasteland."

"Yes," I smiled, shaking her hand. "It's good to see you again, Keira." Link shook her hand as well.

"I am Jasmia," the second Gerudo said, offering her hand. "We have never properly met."

The two spoke with much thicker accents than Nabooru, for they had not mastered our Hylian language as she had.

"Where is Aveil?" Link asked, his face drawn with concern. "She's supposed to be with you."

"She is keeping a closer watch on the Vandelian camp," Keira replied. "We will meet with her in a few days, and then she will lead us all back to the Fortress."

"No reason to worry," Jasmia added, studying him with amber eyes unique to Gerudo. "The exalted Nabooru would send no one under Aveil to guide you."

"Nabooru has been more than good to us," I smiled, lightly caressing Link's back to ease his tension. "We are very grateful to her and to all the Gerudo."

Keira crossed her arms and regarded us with approval.

"Keeping you away from Ashton is a pleasure," she smirked. "So, have a seat; have a plate. The sooner we leave the better."

Aiden and Nathan filled five plates with eggs and sausage and handed them to us, along with slices of bread. The Gerudo did not share our food, as they had already eaten. The mood felt considerably lighter than it had been in days. Whether that stemmed from the Gerudo's energy or the feeling of progress, I couldn't say. Still, Impa's inevitable departure dampened my spirits. Link, too, remained solemn.

"So here is the plan," Keira said once we had all settled around the small fire. "The Vandelians have a camp blocking the road into the Valley, and another camp on the shores of Lake Hylia. Our only way into the Valley is to go around the lake and scale the cliffs above the river. We must do this until we reach the waterfall. Behind it is a secret passage into Fortress territory."

"Aveil will provide more detailed instructions when we meet with her," Jasmia added. The two looked at us expectantly, but we sat in silent uncertainty.

"...That sounds awfully risky," I murmured, knowing the others had similar thoughts. My primary fear remained with Link, that he lacked the strength for such a lengthy and dangerous climb. A glance toward him told me he shared my concern—but for my sake, of course.

"Oh, it is an easy climb, nothing you cannot handle," Keira assured us with a wave of her hand.

_Link is too ill for even the easiest climb!_ The words nearly left my mouth, but I forced them down, unwilling to embarrass Link before the Gerudo and our fellow Resistance comrades. I would have to discuss the matter with Impa in private. _At least he has his hookshot to assist him_.

"We will have ropes to help us," Jasmia added, "and we will complete the climb in one night. It will be fine; you'll see."

"The exalted Nabooru would never allow something too dangerous," Keira said firmly.

"Risky or not," Impa chimed in, "we don't have a choice. This is our only way in without a fight."

Link remained silent, lost in his thoughts. I could almost hear him berating himself, most likely blaming himself for the loss of the Ocarina.

"Then there's no time to lose," he then said, rising to his feet. "Hylia is still days away. We should depart as soon as possible. Like Jasmia said, we can discuss this in more detail when we meet with Aveil."

No one objected. Aiden and Nathan moved to collect our plates while Impa went to pack her few belongings. Link and I helped her do so, knowing we could not delay the inevitable.

"Well," she sighed, shouldering her travel pack. "This is where we must part ways."

"I wish you could stay," I whispered.

She smiled sadly, trailing a cool finger along my cheek.

"I do too," she murmured. "But I also want to reach the Shadow Temple and have Link cleansed as soon as possible. Once that is done, the Final Strike can begin."

I moved to embrace her, wrapping my arms around her waist.

"I will miss you," I said softly.

"We won't be parted long this time," she soothed, stroking my hair. "I promise—no matter what happens."

"And you," she added, reaching over to cup Link's cheek. "Don't lose heart. You've endured this admirably, and we will help you overcome it for good. You hear me?"

He gave her a small smile. "I'll try to stay out of trouble."

She swept her thumb along his cheek. "See that you do." Then she placed a hand on my back and pulled me aside for a final word.

"Try not to agonize over Link," she murmured. "I know I won't be here to help you two, but until I reach the Temple there is little I can do for him anyway. You help him more than anyone."

"I wish I could believe that," I whispered.

"Link's mental and spiritual condition is very important," she told me. "And you have a greater influence on him than anyone—including the necromancer himself. Just be there for him, as you always have, and he'll make it through this."

I hesitated, drawing some comfort from her words. "I still wish I could do more."

"You will," she soothed. "In time."

We shared one more fierce embrace before I let her pull away to mount her horse. Link came up behind me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as the others bid her farewell. I slipped an arm around his waist, determined to at least appear strong in her absence. Only when she had vanished deeper into the woods did Link and I turn to pack our things and continue on our way.

**xxxxxxx**

Another uneventful day passed, much to my relief. The Gerudo traveled on foot, as they had brought no horses, and this slowed our progress. Aiden and Nathan would accompany us until we met with Aveil, and then they would follow Impa back to the Resistance camp with all four of our horses. Link and I would not need them for the remainder of our journey.

As we drew closer to our destination, however slowly, I found myself growing increasingly nervous. I frequently cast glances over my shoulder, staring into the trees for... what? I couldn't say what kept me on edge, but the others seemed calmer than me. I refrained from asking about it; Link had enough to worry about without added paranoia.

As the sun's faint light vanished beyond the darkening trees, the six of us stopped to make camp—without a fire, as usual.

"There is a stream nearby," Keira said, pointing deeper into the woods. "Over that way—"

"I'll go refill our water canteens," I volunteered, moving to collect them.

"I'll go with you," Link said.

"Take a lantern," Jasmia told him. "You will trip and fall on roots without one. Scratch your pretty faces," she added with a smirk.

Link frowned but retrieved a lantern anyway, lighting it with a small, weak flame. He handed it to me and then reached for his crossbow, pausing to load a bolt. I watched him sadly, knowing he carried a crossbow only because he lacked the strength to use a traditional bow.

Once he had strapped some bolts to his belt, we headed off in the direction of the stream, Link in the lead. I followed close behind, lighting our way while he held his weapon ready. We moved quietly, looking every which way and listening for the stream. While the lantern exposed nothing but trees and other plant life, I could not shake the ominous feeling that had plagued me since dusk settled upon the forest. The back of my neck tingled, and I constantly glanced back over my shoulder, expecting to find some dark figure there.

My feet adjusted as the ground began to slope down into a ravine. I held the lantern higher, grateful for its light as the tall, dark trees loomed higher and higher above us.

"There—I hear it."

My nerves calmed somewhat at the sound of Link's voice, and sure enough the hum of running water caressed my ears, barely audible above the constant nighttime noise.

Quickly we followed the source, stopping only when we had reached the stream. Its narrow but steady flow glimmered as I placed the lantern on the grass and retrieved the empty canteens from my satchel.

Link kept watch as I completed my task, surveying the area while I knelt at the water's edge. Despite my previous nerves, I felt myself relax enough to admire my surroundings. The forest lacked the mysterious beauty of the Lost Woods, but the trees had grown tall and knotted with age. They bore a similar density to those in the Lost Woods, closing us off from the rest of the world in a thick veil of leaves.

I remained at the bank even after the canteens had been filled, trailing my fingers through the water. I cupped some in my hands to drink, then splashed it on my face, releasing my breath with a heavy sigh. Such cold, pure water left my face tingling and refreshed.

Beside me Link knelt to do the same with one hand, still grasping his crossbow in the other.

I observed him with a smile, then looked back at the stream, watching it glide past large rocks and over smooth stones.

_What I wouldn't give for a proper bath… even a cold one…_

"What's wrong?"

I turned to cast Link a reassuring smile. "Nothing. Just admiring the stream. Reminds me of the gardens back home someho—agh!"

I shoved my hand into my boot to scratch a sudden itch on my leg. "Another bite. How in the world did an insect enter into my boot and slip under my clothing? I daresay I'm impressed…"

"Try not to scratch it." Link said as he gently took my arm. "You'll make it worse—severely worse, with our luck."

He stood and offered his hand to help me to my feet. His crossbow, I noticed, remained sitting on the bank.

"Was that… a joke?" I teased, tilting my head with playful intrigue.

"Not quite. A cynical one, maybe." A smile flickered across his face before fading into a look of regret. "Zelda..." He sighed and moved his hands to caress my waist. "I know the conditions of this journey have been rough..."

I shook my head, letting my hands rest on his shoulders.

"I'm fine, Link. I've lived under rougher conditions—for a much longer time."

"Yes, but you weren't four months pregnant then," he murmured, running his hand along my belly.

While I did not look exactly as I had four months ago, I still appeared relatively unchanged, especially when clothed. Secretly I felt impatient for something more evident, something that would help me fully grasp the reality of the child growing inside me. The child we took such lengths to protect.

But Link needed no proof. I saw how his face softened in the lantern's glow, the love that so clearly shone in his eyes.

"But I have you now," I said softly. "And no luxury can compete with that."

He sighed and lifted his hands to my face, tenderly stroking his thumbs beneath my eyes.

"Roughing it seems to have little effect on you," he murmured. "You have that beautiful glow people talk about… I must look utterly lifeless next to you."

I gave him a disapproving look. "You look _tired_, Link. And you have every right to be, with everything you endure…"

To say he looked tired, however, was an understatement. The shadows beneath his eyes and his pale complexion gave him the appearance of someone battling a long-term illness, not to mention his thinner frame. A familiar fear often stirred within me whenever I looked at him. Seeing him like that reminded me of my father, whom I had watched slowly succumb to his own illness before it took him.

"Having you here with me makes all the difference," Link said, his voice hushed with sincerity. "You have cared for me in every possible way, and if you knew how much I…"

I pressed my fingers to his lips, silencing him with a slight shake of my head. Then I brought his face to mine, kissing him with all the tenderness I could muster. Eagerly he responded, deepening our kiss as he tightened his arms around my waist. Some time had passed since we last enjoyed such heated affection. Nightly exhaustion and a lack of true privacy had prevented it, as well as Link's frequent bouts of pain. For one blissful moment we yielded to desire, our previous caution all but forgotten—

Until a strangled, echoing scream broke us apart.

"What was that?" I stammered. The sound had ended abruptly, as if forced into silence.

_It can't be…_

Quickly Link snatched the lantern off the ground and flung it into the stream, extinguishing the flame.

"Stay close to me," he muttered, retrieving his crossbow from the bank. "Keep your hand on my back."

Together we moved back toward the camp, taking a circular, meandering path between trees and overgrown thickets.

Link's boot suddenly hit something on the ground, and I caught his arm to keep him from tripping.

A body.

A man's body. He lay face down in the dirt, and carefully Link knelt to turn him over. I pressed a hand to my mouth, stifling a cry as Aiden's wide, unblinking eyes stared up at me. His life had been taken, drained from the open slash across his throat.

Link brushed his fingers over Aiden's face, closing the young lieutenant's eyes. His hand lingered for half a second before he rose and took my arm, dragging me away toward a large tree. I clung to him, struggling to cage my panic. One sound, one wrong move could mean our deaths too.

_But where do we go? What do we do?_

Countless questions filled my head, fueling my fear as I realized how utterly vulnerable we were. The others had likely met a similar end, quickly slain without warning... How could we escape that fate?

"Link Harkinian!"

A wild, laughing voice tore through the night, making me jump. Link forced me between him and the tree, raising his crossbow as thunder rumbled above. Lightning flashed soon after, illuminating the forest for one brief moment.

Long enough to see a dark figure standing several feet away.


	40. Chapter XL

AN: ZOMG, an update? In less than two weeks? Well, I left you with a cliffhanger, so I tried to finish quickly. It's also a bit shorter than most chapters, but I hope it's at least a little exciting! D:

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XL

"Zelda," Link muttered, his eyes and his crossbow fixed on the dark figure, "find a horse and get far away from here. Lon Lon is a few leagues northeast; you could reach it within the hour."

I looked at him, eyes wide with shock, but our enemy spoke first.

"Can you guess who I am, _General_?" he called in a mocking tone. Although he spoke Hylian, his thick accent betrayed his foreign origins.

"You're coming with me," I whispered fiercely, gripping Link's shoulder.

"You know that's impossible," he replied. "I'll do what I can to distract him."

"I will not leave you to die!"

"No answer?" the man called again. "Then take a closer look..."

A flash of lightning showed the figure advancing toward us, a curved blade clutched in each hand.

"Not another step," Link warned, "unless you want a bolt in your heart."

He spoke true. Despite his weakness, Link's aim remained polished and deadly as ever. Still, that would not help him in a duel to the death.

"Oh, I am too quick for that," the man laughed. "And you don't want to lose a bolt before your little _laktah_ flees, do you?"

Link tensed, and with a sinking heart I recognized the man's derogatory word for women.

_So he's Tar Alemian._

The people of Tar Alem hated Hylians, having waged war against us for decades. Link had served in those wars as a leader of our military forces—no doubt they wanted him dead. _But why now? How did this man find us?_

At once an answer came to me. _Ashton_. Had he grown desperate enough to hire Tar Alemian assassins?

"Go, Zelda," Link hissed. _"Now."_

"I won't—"

"_Go NOW!"_

I jumped and slipped out from behind him, running off into the trees. My heart pounded in my throat, and I feared I'd be sick, but somehow my legs kept moving.

Desperately I searched for a horse, my stunned mind still reeling. I had heard the terror in Link's sharp words. My survival—and that of our child—meant everything to him, and he would willingly sacrifice himself for us.

I dared not hope for his survival. He could not win this fight, not in his condition. To escape meant abandoning Link to his death… To stay meant endangering myself and our child.

_What could you do for him if you stayed? You have no magic; you're useless!_

Tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision, and my legs began to slow.

_I can't... I can't leave him..._

A distant whinny distracted me, forcing me to clear my head and press on. I quickened my pace, focusing instead on finding some alternative solution.

_Maybe I could ride back, knock that man down and escape with Link..._

I found the horse still tethered to a tree and threw on her saddle, wrestling with the idea. _It's too risky,_ my practical side argued._ Too risky in the dark, in this dense forest..._ I placed my foot in the stirrup, meaning to hoist myself up—only to pause when my eyes caught a quiver of arrows on the ground. Quickly I stepped down and grabbed it, finding a bow nearby.

Having made a new decision, I slung the quiver over my shoulder and tied the horse's reins back to the tree. Then I snatched an arrow and hurried back toward Link, forcing myself to take deep breaths.

"...I'm supposed to bring you back alive, you know," a low, sneering voice drifted toward me. "Your little queen too. The fool thinks he can control me, but I have come to drain your blood, Harkinian. Just as you drained my brother's."

_His brother?_ I furrowed my brow, straining to hear more as I drew closer.

Link had taken the lives of countless men in battle—fathers, sons, husbands, brothers. Every soldier did. Any one of those fallen Tar Alemians could have family who sought revenge. Finding one who wanted Link's blood would not have been a difficult task for Ashton, considering their alliance with Tar Alem.

A steady rain began to fall, whispering amidst the leaves. I ignored the drops on my face, seeking a place I could view the fight unseen. I moved instinctively, stealthily, avoiding the sticks and leaves littering the forest floor. Finally I knelt upon the ground, well hidden behind the brush. Carefully I pulled the branches aside, peering through to see the duel more clearly.

Link had dropped his crossbow and drawn Valéshar from the sheath on his back. The two men circled each other, awaiting the other's move.

"What say you, murderer!"

He flew at Link, crossing both his swords against Valéshar. Sparks flew as the blades scraped and parted.

"I did not murder your brother," Link spoke, his voice rough and breathless. "One must kill or be killed on the battlefield; every soldier knows this."

"You expect me to believe you felt no vengeance in your heart when you took his life? Just as he took the life of your beloved captain?"

My eyes widened. _Captain... Could this man be… the brother of Captain Shayne's killer? The brother of Tarmok Khar?_

Captain Shayne Anders had been Link's first and primary father figure. He had recognized Link's extraordinary military talents and helped him overcome his initial struggles as a young recruit. Shayne taught Link how to bear the pain of war, both on and off the battlefield, and inspired him to achieve his highest potential. With Kinsley's assistance, he also introduced Link to the ways of nobility and helped him gain favor within the court—and thus with my father. If not for Shayne, Link and I might have never married.

He had planned to adopt Link, since both had lost their families and Shayne needed an heir. Before he was able to complete the arrangements, however, the flames of war had returned to Hyrule, and Shayne was killed in battle. Link, a lieutenant at the time, had glimpsed the killer's face before Shayne died in his arms. Years later, during the Retribution War, Link had faced TarmokKhar in battle and defeated him.

I knew very little about Khar's brother, but I had heard of the infamous assassin. Word of his bloody, brutal methods had spread to Hyrule and beyond.

"I won't deny the anger I felt that day," Link said. "But that doesn't make it murder. I killed your brother because he would have killed me. Ending his life did not ease my pain, and I took no pleasure in it."

"Liar!" Khar growled and lunged at him, slashing wildly. "I shall take _great_ pleasure in killing you!"

Lightning flashed as Link backpedaled, and I saw Khar's blades miss him by mere inches. My breath caught and I nocked my arrow, aiming for Khar's throat.

But the darkness made such a rapidly moving target nearly impossible to strike, especially in the rain. I could barely distinguish Link's figure from Khar's, and if my arrow pierced Link...

He sprang forward, swiping Valéshar with deadly speed. It was a risky, uncharacteristic move, fueled by anger. Or perhaps desperation.

_Don't, Link, please… _I could only imagine his state of mind. He believed I had fled, and while that eased his distress, I knew some despair had taken root. For him, this was his last fight.

But I would not allow that.

Again Khar crossed his blades, blocking Link's attack before jumping back with a laugh. The rain fell more heavily now, soaking our hair and clothes.

"You are making this far too easy, Harkinian," Khar murmured, his tone dark with satisfaction. "Your reputation precedes you, yet I am disappointed. I thought you would show me a real fight."

Link ignored his taunts and blocked his attacks, switching to a defensive stance.

"You realize what I intend to do with your _laktah_, don't you...? She can run now, but I will find her. And I will kill her… but first I will _enjoy_ her."

My fingers tightened around the bow and arrow as my fear mingled with disgust—a feeling Link shared. He attacked Khar with newfound energy, slashing Valéshar again and again. I knew anger fueled him this time, and each move lacked focus. A loud metallic _clang_ followed as Khar blocked each blow with ease.

"Still not impressed, General!" he laughed.

He swung at Link, who leapt back as the blades crossed paths, cutting the air where his neck had been. From there the lethal pattern continued—swipe, parry, slash, parry—and both had yet to draw first blood. I tried to follow Khar with my arrow, but the opportunity to shoot never came.

Then suddenly Link cried out, staggering back and clutching his sword arm. I clenched my teeth, silencing my own cry. He recovered quickly, and a few slashes later he returned the favor, cutting Khar's cheek. Then, with an unexpected thrust, Link managed to disarm his left blade. The sword flew off into the darkness and landed in the brush. Furious, Khar flew at Link with a series of violent attacks, and the two danced with death as lightning flashed above. I held my breath, straining to hear the battle since I could no longer see who was who.

I gasped when Link cried out again, followed by another loud _clang_. I strained to recognize the sounds. Thunder rumbled above, and with the lightning that followed I saw Khar punch Link square in the jaw—both had been completely disarmed. Link staggered back, but before he could recover Khar swung again, knocking Link to the ground.

He did not get up. And in that moment, I forgot myself.

"_Link!" _

I froze, realizing what I had done. Khar stood still a moment, then slowly turned toward the sound, and I seized the moment to release my arrow. I heard it fly, whistling through the air until it struck with a wet sound, followed by a startled grunt.

I never saw where it pierced him. By then I had fled, crashing through the bushes as fast as my shaking legs could carry me. The bow and quiver lay forgotten on the ground, useless in my flight. Thorns clawed at my clothes, cutting through them, but I ignored the pain.

Frantically I tried to retrace my steps, searching for a horse. A whimper escaped my throat, and I pressed my lips together, willing my body to move. I could barely keep my sense of direction…

I heard a _snap_ as I thrust branches aside, and I knew Khar followed close behind. How I kept moving, I could not fathom. My legs felt stiff and heavy as columns of rock, yet somehow I flew through the pouring rain, pushing myself onward while every fiber of me screamed to turn back.

For all I knew, Link could still be alive.

Lightning flashed, and my vision blurred as I blinked tears away. _I can't... _

Link had already fought for me and our child, possibly died for us, and I could not let his sacrifice go to waste. Still, I felt myself being ripped in two.

_I'm so sorry, Link..._

I stumbled to a halt, releasing a choked sob as I pressed my back against a tree. Blood pounded in my ears as I glanced about, and I jumped at every sudden movement amidst the trees. I forced myself to take deep breaths, raking my fingers through my long wet hair. Then quickly I reached into my boot, drawing a knife from inside. Link had insisted I carry two in each boot...

It seemed they had come of use after all.

Having a weapon calmed me, if only slightly, and I waited for the next flash of lightning before moving on. Between the unending mass of trees, the darkness, and the pouring rain, I struggled to retain my sense of direction. I only hoped Khar had become disoriented himself.

On and on I ran, straining my eyes and ears for some sign of our horses. I no longer bothered with stealth; the storm provided all the cover I needed.

Then suddenly I tripped, crying out as I crashed to the ground. Quickly I picked myself up and glanced behind me to find what looked like another body lying face down. In the darkness I saw a hint of bright hair. One of the Gerudo.

Biting back a sob, I forced myself back into a run, knowing I could not linger. My logical side reminded me I must be closer to the camp, and moments later a familiar noise surfaced above the rain—a horse's whinny. It sounded distant, but it gave me direction, and frantically I headed toward it. I realized Khar might have foreseen my strategy and chose to seek the horses himself, but I had no other choice.

A crack of thunder shook the forest as I reached the horse. Frightened, the mare reared and whinnied, but I snatched her reins, untied her from the tree, and thrust my foot into the stirrup—

A shriek tore from my lips as rough hands grabbed me and threw me to the ground.

"There you are!" Khar's laughter filled my ears.

I landed hard on my back, gasping as the air left my lungs. My knife flew from my hand, out of reach.

_No... no... _

Coughing between shallow breaths, I clawed at my boot, groping inside it until my fingers closed around another knife...

Khar grabbed at my arms, but I twisted and slashed the knife with a vicious cry. The blade cut across his chest, and he let out an angry cry of his own. I scrambled to regain my footing, my boots slipping in the mud. I had barely taken three steps when Khar snatched my ankle, jerking me back down to the ground. His hands closed around my arms like iron clasps, and with a scream I kicked and struggled until his weight on my legs forced me to lie still. I found myself half submerged in the mud, glaring up into his dark, empty eyes. A large, ugly scar crossed his rugged features, thickening across his crooked nose.

"Think you can escape me, _laktah_?" he hissed, his stale breath hot on my face. "Pathetic little prey like you?"

I could see he wore some type of armor, most likely strong enough to have absorbed the impact of my arrow.

"Killing me will gain you nothing," I spat, hearing the tremor in my voice. "Ashton wants me alive."

A dark, chilling smile spread across his whiskered face.

"That didn't stop me from killing your lover," he sneered.

My breath hitched, and while I had expected such taunts, my throat burned with suppressed sobs.

"Ohh," Khar mocked, speaking with feigned, exaggerated sympathy. "Does that make you _sad_...? Does that _frighten_ you...?"

He shifted so his elbows held my arms against the ground, freeing his hands. Immediately I struggled, but he pressed his body down against me, crushing me. I gasped, struggling to breathe past the lump in my throat.

"Such fire," he murmured, bringing his face closer to mine. "I wonder... are the other rumors true as well?"

He pressed his face to my neck, and bile rose in my throat when his tongue slid along my skin.

"The Jewel of Hyrule…" His hands moved to my breasts, and I bit my tongue to keep from crying out in pain. The taste of blood filled my mouth, and I squeezed my eyes shut, letting my tears mix with the rain water on my face.

Somewhere in my dark pool of despair I grasped for some method of escape, but what could I do? As always I considered using magic, but I knew it was impossible. I hated myself for being so vulnerable. Terrified and ashamed, my tears burned against my cold, wet face.

"You are mine now," Khar growled against my throat. "Your lover's ghost can watch me ruin you... hear the screams I will tear out of you..."

Something broke deep inside me, and I felt my spirit sink into a deep, icy chasm. My Link was dead, a horrid death awaited me, and our child would never enter the world.

_Is this the end for us?_

A quiet sob slipped through my grit teeth; I could no longer suppress it. Then, stripped of all other options, I began to pray.

_Blessed Sisters, please... please..._

Suddenly, miraculously,I felt Khar's weight leave me. His startled cry broke through the rush of pouring rain, and I opened my eyes to see a dark figure lift him up and throw him to the ground, away from me. Quickly I sat up and dragged my rigid, shaking body away—only to stop when a soft, familiar ringing stroked my ears. A small golden light appeared in the darkness, moving with the dark figure's hand. My breath left me as I immediately recognized it.

_The Triforce of Courage._

Shock surged through me, mingling with immense joy and relief. I tried to whisper his name but managed only hushed, trembling sobs.

"You," Khar growled, ripping his remaining sword from its sheath. "I killed you!"

He flew at Link, his hoarse cry mad enough to freeze one's blood—the cry of an enraged killer.

With a wave of fear, I realized Link was unarmed.

Yet his hand came up, catching Khar's wrist and stopping the attack with ease. The Triforce glowed brighter then, illuminating the two men as Link twisted Khar's arm. I heard a terrible _snap_, followed by the assassin's howls of pain as he dropped his sword. Stunned, I watched him stumble backward, his broken arm hanging limp at his side while the other frantically reached toward his belt. But before he could even touch it Link struck him so hard he landed flat on his back, just a few feet from where I stood.

Lightning flashed as Link advanced toward him, illuminating the surrounding trees and allowing me to glimpse his face. What I saw left me frozen with horror.

Anger. Pure, unbridled rage twisted his dirty, bloodied features into a mask I did not recognize. And those eyes... those cold, empty eyes…This was not my Link.

Khar clawed at the mud with his good hand, struggling to stand in his dazed state. Lightning exposed the fear in his face, a look I doubted he had ever worn. He had barely lifted his head off the ground before Link planted a boot on his chest and forced him back into the mud.

Khar didn't give up. Somehow he snatched a knife with his good arm and plunged it into Link's leg. I gasped as Link cried out and staggered backward. Khar tried to regain his footing, but within seconds Link had pulled the knife from his leg, snatched Khar by the hair, and slashed the blade across his throat—just as Khar had done to Aiden and the others. Khar let out a surprised gurgle and fell back into the mud with a wet, heavy _thud_.

I stared at his corpse, unable to believe what I had seen. Link slowly rose to his feet and turned to face me, the bloody dagger still in his hand. The Triforce of Courage shone through his glove—

_No._ My heart nearly stopped when I fully registered what I saw. Not the Triforce of Courage.

_The Triforce of Power. _

The crowning triangle glowed while Courage remained dark and dormant beneath it. Panic and confusion tore through my mind as I struggled to make sense of it.

_Impossible... It's impossible..._

Thunder rumbled as my eyes lifted to Link's, and in the brief flashes of lightning I saw a vaguely familiar face, completely void of emotion. His cold blue eyes did not recognize me, and slowly he advanced. I no longer knew what I looked upon, but it wasn't Link.

"Link," I took a few shaky steps back, knowing I could not escape him, even with his injured leg. I didn't _want _to escape him; I wanted to save him. "You have to fight this... Don't let him control you..."

He did not hear me—I barely heard myself over the pouring rain.

"I don't know what he's done to you, but you're stronger than th—"

I gasped when Link's hand closed around my throat with incredible speed.

"You have interfered for the last time," he growled.

My eyes widened, and desperately I tried to loosen his alarmingly tight grip. I felt myself rise upward, my feet lifting off the ground, and I clung to Link's wrist, desperate to lessen the pressure on my windpipe.

"Link..." I croaked, unable to finish. Darkness spotted my blurring vision, but amidst the pain I felt a strong wave of sorrow—for Link. I had failed him. And if the curse didn't kill him that night, realizing what he had done would.

Tears and rain streamed down my face as I loosened my hold on his wrist, straining as I truly began to suffocate. _This isn't you... _Slowly I reached for him, my trembling fingers stroking his cold, unresponsive face. _I know you… I love you…_

Lightning flashed as thunder rumbled, and I saw a pained expression break Link's vacant mask. Tears glinted in his eyes, catching the light of the glowing Triforce piece, and shaky, uneven breaths escaped his clenched teeth. Hope stirred amidst my fear; he had not yet lost this battle.

Then the Triforce symbol's light began to fade, and with an anguished cry Link released me. I dropped to the ground, crumpling onto my side as I coughed and gasped for breath. For a moment all I heard was muted rainfall beyond the pounding in my ears. Only after taking several deep, painful breaths could I force myself up from the mud.

"Link?" I croaked, my voice a hoarse whisper. Fear swooped in, and I forgot the burning pain on my throat as I frantically looked about. Only when the forest lit up did I see his hunched form just a few feet away. He had fallen to his knees, clutching his head and moaning incoherently.

I crawled to his side, ignoring my pounding headache as I placed my hand on his back.

"No!" he cried, struggling and failing to crawl away. "Leave me!"

He barely managed to speak at all, and the strained tremor in his voice brought fresh tears to my eyes.

"I'm not leaving you." My hushed words were lost in the rainfall, but it hardly mattered. The pain overwhelmed him, forcing a choked sob through his clenched teeth.

"Please go," he whimpered. "Please..."

He leaned forward until his head touched the ground, his fingers clawing through the mud. Helplessly I watched, terrified his resistance would truly kill him this time.

_What can I do? _My panicked shriek echoed through my mind. _Nayru, Farore, what can I do?_

Link's whimpers rose to cries as he clutched his head, fighting to suppress the evil within him. I reached for him, longing to soothe him, but before I could touch him he threw himself back, lifting his face to the sky to release a long, agonized scream. The sound tore through the night, drowning out the storm and driving a stake into my heart. Then he crumpled to the ground, lying still and lifeless in the mud.

"Link," I sobbed. Rain poured around us, but I barely heard it above my shallow, shaky breaths. I slipped my arm around his shoulders, weeping softly as I cradled his head in the crook of my arm. My trembling hands smoothed his soaked, filthy hair away from his face and searched his neck for a pulse. I didn't believe I would find one.

But I did. It was weak, but it was there.

_He's alive. _

It brought me little hope. Link remained deep in the necromancer's clutches, fighting for his life, and every second drained his life away.

Thunder clapped as the wind picked up, hurtling rain through the trees. I sheltered Link against my breast, knowing we could not stay there. We had to leave the forest and find shelter. Link had mentioned Lon Lon Ranch…

Summoning whatever strength I could find, I climbed to my feet, took Link's arms, and dragged him a ways through the mud, leaning him against a nearby tree. Quickly I checked him over for any serious wounds, straining to see in the darkness and the storm.

Remembering the stab wound on his leg, I carefully removed his boot to find his pant leg soaked with blood. I cursed myself for not tending to it sooner and tore a scrap of cloth from my tunic. I wound it around his leg, covering the wound before tying it in place. It was a pitiful bandage, drenched with rain and mud, but it would slow the bleeding.

Just as I meant to stand and begin my search, another thought struck me—_how will I find my way back to him?_

I sat back, momentarily at a loss. This was unfamiliar territory, and a storm at night made navigation nearly impossible. Could I keep my sense of direction?

Unwilling to risk it, I quickly searched Link's pockets for something that might help me. A small pouch attached to his belt revealed a compass, but I found nothing else of use. It would have to do.

Again I checked his pulse, relieved to feel it's slow rhythm beneath my fingers.

"Hold on just a little longer," I whispered, kissing his cold, unresponsive lips. "I'll be right back."

Then I stood and hurried off, pushing my way through the thickets toward what I hoped was the general location of our camp. Every now and then I squinted at the compass, glad to have at least some direction.

_If only we had Epona..._ Link's mare responded to my voice, and her loyalty to Link would have been invaluable that night.

I passed tree after tree, wishing more and more for my magic. I could have created a fire, or a barrier to protect Link from the rain. I could have left marks to follow on the trees…

_Stop it. Wishful thinking will gain you nothing._

Just then, miraculously, I heard a faint whinny through the rain. My spirit lifted as I followed the sound, and before long I found the frightened mare.

"Come on, girl," I said mechanically, untying her from the tree and briefly stroking her neck. "You're all right. Come on..." I led the horse back toward Link, pushing branches aside as I struggled to retrace my steps.

We walked on and on, and panic crept back into my thoughts as I failed to recognize my surroundings. I began to fear I'd been walking in circles around Link—when something in the distance caught my eye.

A light.

My panic consumed me, smothering all logical thought. Within seconds I had wrapped the horse's reins around a nearby branch and bolted toward the light, drawing another knife from my boot.

Rain whipped my face as I ran, but I soon skidded to a halt, nearly slipping in the mud when I reached the light.

A lantern.

It sat on the ground, illuminating the cloaked figure who knelt beside Link.

"Get away from him!" I shrieked, advancing with the knife held ready.

The figure jumped and whirled around, her amber eyes meeting mine.

"Zelda?" she stammered, climbing to her feet.

Relief rushed through me, so strongly I felt a sob catch in my throat.

"…Aveil," I breathed.


	41. Chapter XLI

AN: A longer chapter this time, and I'm a bit nervous about it, but then again I always am. I hope you enjoy it!

Also, thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews. Reaching your thoughts and just having your support is so rewarding to me. I really truly appreciate it! :)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XLI

My horse flew over the wet, muddy grass of Hyrule Field, running as fast as she could without losing Aveil behind us. I cast yet another anxious glance over my shoulder, barely recognizing the dark and blurry shape which pursued at a distance. The thunder and lightning had ceased, but rain still poured from the heavens, pelting our faces as the air whipped past. The unnatural cold seeped through my clothes, and fatigue threatened to overwhelm, but adrenaline kept me awake and alert. I had come too far to let exhaustion interfere.

Again I thanked the gods for sending Aveil my way. She was Nabooru's second-in-command, a skilled warrioress of the Gerudo, and a good friend. I had explained so little before she grasped the seriousness of Link's situation and sprang into action, hurrying off to find another horse. Countless questions had lingered in her eyes, but she suppressed them for his sake and mine. I doubted I would have left the forest without her help—certainly not as quickly as we had. She had volunteered to carry Link while I searched for Lon Lon Ranch, and I had willingly agreed. My arms still shook from weakness and lingering shock, lacking the strength to hold Link while I rode.

I realized he remained on the brink of death, but Aveil's reassuring presence allowed me to hope. For a long time we had meandered through the forest, struggling to regain our sense of direction and find Hyrule Field. My patience had been pushed to its limit, but eventually the dense forest had thinned into scattered trees, and the vast field opened before us. Immediately I had referred to Link's compass and turned northeast, just as he had instructed.

I had scanned the horizon for what felt like hours, wondering how I could possibly see the ranch through such downpour in the dead of night. Again my patience began to wither, and a frustrated scream rose up inside me…

Until suddenly a small glow appeared in the darkness—a lit window. Renewed hope surged within me, bringing a smile to my weary face.

"There!" I cried, my voice lost in the wind. "That must be it!"

It shone like a beacon, growing brighter as we raced toward it. We had done it; sanctuary stood only minutes away.

Once we had reached the main gates, I quickly dismounted to open them. Finding no handles on the gate's exterior, I thrust my shoulder against the wood, but it would not give. _Locked._ I had expected as much. No fool left their doors or windows unlocked, certainly not within the past several months.

I stood there a moment, squinting in the rain as I studied the gate. It rose several feet above my head, and its thick, smooth wooden planks stood vertically bound—extremely sturdy and impossible to climb. This did not discourage me; I had other means of getting inside.

Wordlessly I turned back toward Aveil, who remained mounted with Link.

"What now?" she shouted over the rain.

"There should be a hookshot on Link's belt," I called back. "Can you find it?"

She shifted, bending over to search Link's belt. "Here!"

I breathed a sigh of relief and took the hookshot from her outstretched hand. Grasping the wet handle, I returned to the gate and lifted my arm, aiming the point. A metallic _chink _sounded when I fired, followed by a muted _thump_ when it pierced the top of the gate.

_Perfect._

Giving the chain a few good tugs, I then retracted it, scaling the gate as the weapon pulled me upward. Carefully I perched on the top and moved to climb down the other side. This proved much easier, as the interior horizontal planks provided footholds all the way down. From there I dropped into a puddle of mud and turned to lift the barricade—to no avail. The large wooden beam was far too heavy.

"Hold on!" I shouted over the gate. "I'll get help!"

I sprinted toward the house, splashing through the mud until I reached the front door.

"Open up, please!" I cried, pounding against it. "I need your help! Please!"

Heavy footsteps sounded from the inside, and the door opened a crack. A rugged face appeared, blocking the strip of light, though I could see little more than his large, bushy mustache.

"What in tarnation…?" he exclaimed, speaking with a thick country drawl. "Who are you? How'd you get past my gate?"

Talon, the owner of Lon Lon Ranch, was a kind and generous man, almost to a fault. Under normal circumstances he would surely have invited me inside. But times had changed, and Talon could not afford to be his usual trusting self, not even to a scared young woman on his doorstep.

"Please," I begged, "please open the gate—my husband, he is very ill, and we need your help…"

My words tumbled out so frantically it was a wonder he understood me at all. He opened the door a little more, letting the warm light inside frame his burly figure. I saw he held a pitchfork in his large hands.

"Your husband, eh?" he said, studying me closely. "How about you answer my questions first?"

I didn't have time for explanations. _Link _didn't have time.

"Talon, listen to me," I said sharply, casting courtesy aside. "I know you don't recognize me, but I am Zelda Harkinian. I have Link outside the gate on horseback, and he is very sick. _Please open the gate_."

Talon's eyes widened beneath his thick, dark brows, but before he could respond I heard a female voice behind him.

"Papa?"

Quickly Talon turned from the door, and a pretty young woman I recognized as Malon, his daughter, stood at the foot of the stairs in a pale blue robe. She clutched it closed at her throat, staring at me over her father's head.

"Everything's fine, Malon. I need you to prepare a hot bath and find some clean clothes for this lady and her husband. Quickly now."

She hesitated, and I wondered if she had overheard more than he realized. Then she turned away and rushed back up the stairs.

"I know this could be some sort of trick," Talon said, turning back to me with a seriousness I'd never thought he possessed, "but may the good Sisters strike me down the day I turn you or Link away. How about you come sit inside by the fire while I take care of him? Malon should be back any minute now..."

"That's kind of you," I replied, forcing some patience into my voice, "but I'd rather help. Link is unconscious—a friend of ours is with him. Please, we must hurry."

"All right then; let me just grab my cloak here…"

I turned back into the rain before he'd finished his sentence, running toward the gate. Talon did not immediately follow, and anxiously I peered through the rain, waiting. Several minutes later he appeared with a taller, thinner man—probably another worker. Together they heaved the wooden beam from the gate, and I flung the doors open as they stood aside. Aveil quickly urged her horse through the gate while I grabbed my own horse's reins to lead her inside. Then I turned to hold the gates shut while Talon and his worker replaced the wooden beam. Once relieved of its weight, they then moved to help Aveil and me with Link.

Ingo stepped forward to hold Link's upper body, hooking his arms under his shoulders while Talon moved to take his legs. Together they carried him inside the house while Aveil and I followed close behind.

Malon stood waiting inside with towels clutched in her hands. The moment she saw Link she clapped a hand to her mouth, and the towels nearly tumbled to the floor. Her wide blue eyes moved from him to me, but Aveil distracted me with a hand on my shoulder.

"We should leave our boots by the door," she said, bending down to remove hers. I pulled mine off as well, and while the rain had washed most of the mud away, I hesitated to enter the house as I was. Talon and Ingo began to carry Link up the stairs, unfazed by their own muddy boots and dripping clothes. I looked to Malon, shivering with cold and unsure what to do, but her gaze still followed Link.

"Miss Malon," Aveil called to her. "Could we have those towels to dry off?"

Malon started and turned to us, as though we had only just appeared.

"Oh, yes… of course…" she muttered, hurrying over to us.

We murmured our thanks and quickly dried away as much of the mud and water as we could before climbing the stairs after Link.

Talon and Ingo carried him into a small guest room with dark furniture, a small, one-person bed, and an unlit fireplace. Flowered paper and pictographs of horses—most likely their own—adorned the walls.

"Sit him down here," I said, pulling a chair away from a desk.

They did so, lowering him down carefully. Talon kept his hands on Link's shoulders, making sure he didn't slump to the floor.

Blood had stained the hair above Link's temple and trailed down toward his ear—a wound I hadn't seen in the darkness. Aveil saw it too, and within moments she was there with a clean cloth, pressing it to the wound.

"The horses outside will need to be stabled," Talon said to the taller man. He gave a stiff nod and left the room while I dropped down to unlace Link's muddy boots. After pulling them off and placing them aside, I wiped my hands on my soaked tunic and reached for his belt, undoing the buckle and removing it, along with the many items still attached.

"Can you lift his arms a moment?" I asked Talon as I set the belt aside. "I need to remove his tunic."

He did as I asked, taking Link's wrists and lifting them up above his head. Together we managed to lift off the tunic, which I placed in Aveil's waiting hands. Then I began to untie the laces of his undershirt—only to stop when Aveil's hand touched mine.

"_Should I get rid of them before you do that?" _she muttered in her native tongue, glancing at Talon and Malon.

"No," I answered quietly. "There's no use hiding it this time."

I had no idea how much the scar had spread, and I hesitated to expose Link's secret to these people. Talon had always been a friend to us, providing the castle with milk, horses, and other supplies, but his and Malon's loyalty could have suffered in the recent months. Surely the awful rumors drifting about had planted some doubt in their hearts…

But if Link was to recover in their home, I had little choice but to expose the truth. These people had been kind enough to grant us hospitality, and maintaining secrecy could breed suspicion. That we could not afford.

I glanced at Talon's inquisitive face, and through my peripheral vision I could see Malon had come closer.

"…What you are about to see may frighten you," I told them. "Please try to stay calm. I will explain everything once I've tended to him."

Talon glanced at his daughter, then gave me a small nod. Gently he raised Link's arms again, letting me pull the undershirt over his head…

Malon gave a muffled, fearful gasp as I exposed Link's markings, but I barely heard her. What I saw terrified me as well.

A few flesh wounds crossed Link's skin, previously concealed by his dark, wet clothing, but I focused on something far worse.

The scar was spreading.

The dark tendrils moved slowly but quite noticeably. They had covered his entire torso, reaching halfway up his neck. His arms were also covered, and the markings inched toward his hands.

"No," I breathed. "Please, no…"

"What's happened to him?" Malon cried. Talon lowered Link's arms and moved to console his daughter. Aveil moved to take his place, but I paid them no mind. Instead I took Link's face in my hands, desperate to stop the scar's progression. I knew what would happen if I didn't, and this time we had no Sages to intervene.

He was dying.

"Link, please!" I cried, my voice shrill with panic. "Please wake up!"

My spirit trembled under the weight of my failure, and I clenched my teeth as tears blurred my vision. _I can't lose him! I won't!_

_But how? How can I possibly stop this?_

Somehow, in the midst of my frantic, chaotic thoughts, Impa's voice answered, surfacing from a memory.

"_You have a greater influence on him than anyone—including the necromancer himself. Just be there for him, as you always have, and he'll make it through this."_

I shook my head in frustration. _How can I be there for him if I can't even reach him? _

And then it struck me.

_Telepathy._

I could reach him using telepathy. It was all I had left. I knew it was dangerous to try, considering both Link and Impa had forbidden it.

_But if I can save him..._

Blinking back tears, I swept my thumb against Link's pale, wet cheek, knowing the necromancer strove to destroy him with each passing moment.

_He will not take you from me._

Face set with determination, I pressed my fingertips to Link's temples and closed my eyes, struggling to clear the turbulence from my mind. I felt my Triforce piece tingle on my hand, aiding my meditative efforts, and slowly but steadily my thoughts began to quiet. Before long I knew nothing but my presence and my will to reach Link. Then, drawing a deep, calming breath, I carefully opened my mind…

And entered his.

At first I felt nothing… nothing but the painful absence of our bond. Unsettled by the emptiness, I quickly probed deeper, seeking some sign of Link's presence.

Then something rippled within the void… something dark. The necromancer's evil closed in around me, ready to cast me out. I sensed its wrath, its need to control, to enslave.

To feel a presence so unlike Link within his own mind greatly disturbed me. What had once been a beautiful, harmonious existence had been replaced by jarring, chaotic noise. How he endured such constant intrusion, I could not fathom. Thrusting the fear from my mind, I fortified my mental barriers and ignored the presence, determined to reach Link.

Yet searching through such a tainted subconscious felt like wandering through a thick fog. I had nothing to guide me; I sensed nothing but the evil presence which constantly pressed and scraped against my barriers, smothering my awareness and straining my will. I wondered why it did not attack more aggressively, though I suspected it meant to test my limits, weaken me slowly.

Then suddenly something else drew my attention—a warm, subtle sensation, like the soft glow of candlelight.

_Link?_

I forced myself onward, but as I drew closer my strength began to wither. Part of me feared the physical consequences, but I refused to turn back. I would not leave him.

Then the warmth brushed my barriers, so briefly I feared I'd imagined it. I shivered at the gentle, familiar touch, amazed he could elicit such a response while my barrier still shielded me.

_Link..._

And then I knew. If I wanted to make contact, if I meant to free him from the curse's grasp, I would have to make myself vulnerable—to Link and to the curse.

I hesitated, weighing the consequences… but my mind had already been made. Suppressing all doubt from my thoughts, I released my mental defenses.

Link's presence reached me first, flowing into me like a barricaded river unleashed. Pure, unbridled emotions filled my mind, mingling with my own and warming my innermost core. The incredible, _wonderful_ force of his spirit overwhelmed me, filling me with pleasure I had not experienced since before we lost the bond…

It ended as soon as it began. Our minds had barely touched before the curse interfered, ripping Link away. His absence left a frigid but painfully familiar emptiness, and in my shock I struggled to resummon my barriers.

_Zelda!_ Link's panicked voice echoed through the chaos. _Zelda!_

The evil shattered my weak defenses, engulfing me in its wrath. Pain unlike anything I'd ever felt seared through me, tearing me to pieces.

_Link..._

I screamed as my concentration shattered, feeling myself fall as the room faded to black.

**xxxxxxx**

"_Zelda… You awake?"_

A low, feminine voice pierced the fog which slowed my mind and clouded my thoughts. I strained to move, surprised to feel my body obey despite its unusual weight. Then, gradually, I felt myself grow lighter as the initial heaviness faded into drowsiness. My senses soon registered the soft sheets beneath me, the fresh air tinged with the smell of horses, the peaceful silence...

And the pain.

A dull ache plagued my entire body, and the slightest movement brought flaring pain, especially along my throat. I groaned softly, opening my eyes to stare up at a white ceiling. Pale morning light filled the room, though I squinted as my eyes adjusted.

Then a woman's face appeared above me, tanned and framed by bright red hair.

"So, you are awake," Aveil said, a smile tugging at her full lips. "Thank the Sisters. How do you feel?"

I blinked a few times, trying to remember where I was and how I had gotten there. "I…"

"You're at Lon Lon Ranch," Aveil reminded me. "Do you remember? You tried to help Link after we brought him here, but something went wrong. All I know is your hands both started to glow, but then you screamed and blacked out. You've been sick with fever for two days."

I stared at her, forcing the blurry pieces of my sluggish memory back together until realization struck.

…_Link!_

I tried to sit up—but instantly fell back when a splitting pain shot through my head.

"Whoa, take it easy now," Aveil exclaimed. "Link's alive but still unconscious. He also has a fever, but he isn't recovering like you did. His wounds aren't healing either."

A terrible weight sank in my chest. _It's just like that time he lay ill in Goron City… _And this time we were stranded at Lon Lon, where no fairy or Sages could help us.

"I want to see him," I said hoarsely, throwing back my covers and ignoring the wave of pain.

"Zelda—"

But I had already left the bed, stumbling as the room suddenly tilted. Aveil caught me, holding me steady with an arm around my waist.

"Just a quick visit," she said firmly. "You shouldn't be walking around."

She guided me out into the hall and directly into Link's room. There he lay, pale and still in the shadow of death. Only the slight rise and fall of his chest assured me he still clung to life. While his covers hid most of him, I could see the black lines of his scar ran all the way up his neck, stopping at his jaw line. His hands had been marked as well, though his fingers remained untouched.

_It hasn't claimed him yet…_ It seemed our telepathic contact, however brief, had been enough to loosen the curse's hold on him that night. But the danger remained, and time was running out. Link needed to be cleansed as soon as possible, but he couldn't even leave his bed...

I sank into the chair at his bedside, stroking his damp hair away from his forehead. A feverish sweat clung to his skin, soaking the bandage wrapped around his head, and a red stain above his temple showed the wound had not stopped bleeding. I reached for his covers, slowly lifting them to find more bloodstains on the bandages wrapped around his chest and arms. Even his flesh wounds wouldn't heal. _Just like before._

A wave of helplessness fell upon me, and I struggled to suppress the sobs burning in my throat. _Impa, if only you had stayed..._

"Talon and his daughter have been doing everything they can," Aveil said behind me. "They have good medicine here, but nothing seems to help him."

I shook my head and swallowed. "He needs fairy magic. It's the only thing pure enough to combat the effects of his curse."

"Do you know where I could find some?"

I shook my head, wiping a tear from my cheek. There were no Great Fairy fountains in the area, and without the Ocarina…

Aveil placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, pulling me out of despair.

"If he needs fairy magic," she said, "I'll travel as far as I must to find it. But right now you should rest and eat something. We can discuss this more later. Link is in good hands; don't worry."

Reluctantly I rose and left his side, letting Aveil guide me back to my own bed.

.

"...Then the rain started, and I ended up lost in the woods. I decided to find shelter until it stopped, but as I was looking I heard someone scream."

I sat in my bed, propped up against my pillows with a bowl of Malon's hot cuccoo noodle soup. I had feared my lack of appetite would prevent me from taking even a spoonful, but the smell alone invited me to try. Thick and mild, the soup provided the gentle nourishment I needed, satisfying my hunger and warming my insides.

Aveil had already eaten, so while we both had questions, she sat at my bedside and did most of the talking.

"It was a woman's voice," she murmured, her eyes downcast. "Yours, I think. I headed toward it… and eventually stumbled upon Jasmia. She was already dead."

"I'm so sorry, Aveil," I whispered. The Gerudo formed a very close community, one more like a sisterhood. Losing anyone devastated the entire tribe.

"You lost people too," she said, her amber eyes meeting mine. "Two men—I found their bodies as well."

"Aiden, one of Link's lieutenants," I replied softly. "And Nathan. They were men of rare quality."

We fell silent, taking a moment to remember our fallen comrades. I knew Khar was directly responsible for their deaths, but Ashton had sent him after us. He shared some of the guilt. _Yet another crime committed against my people… Will he ever answer for it all?_

"There was another," Aveil murmured. "Not far from where I found Link."

My hands tightened around my bowl. "Khar," I hissed. "He killed them all, attacked without warning in the darkness."

"The coward." Aveil growled. "I'd expect nothing less from a Tar Alemian. But you and Link defeated him?"

I shook my head, staring down at my soup. "Link did. I'm not much use in battle these days… I can't channel my Gift."

"You can't?" I heard the shock in her voice. "Why not?"

I shrugged and met her gaze. "We don't know for certain, but we think it has to do with the baby..."

_The baby._

Fear jolted through me in a brief but terrible wave.

"Aveil," I whispered, setting my bowl aside as I pressed a hand to my belly. "Those days I was ill… Have I… Has there been any… bleeding?"

I could barely form the words. In the onslaught of panic I felt certain she would confirm the worst, and my tears came even before she had answered.

"Zelda, no," she soothed, moving to sit on the bed and placing a hand on my arm. "There was nothing. Your child is with you still. No need to despair…"

I released a breath I'd unwittingly been holding and nodded, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. Yet while her reassurance brought me relief, I knew I could still miscarry. The fear would never truly leave me, not until I gave birth.

"I haven't had the chance to congratulate you until now," Aveil said with a small smile. "May the Sisters grant you a strong and healthy daughter."

Weakly I returned her smile. The Gerudo tribe consisted only of women—save Link, whom they had accepted when he reached their adult age of sixteen. Somehow, by the will of the gods, they almost always gave birth to daughters, and the rare birth of a son meant the birth of a king. According to their prophesies, a son would rise to power once every hundred years, and their history books showed it to be true.

"I hope you would welcome a son into the tribe as well," I said softly.

"Perhaps… if he's anything like his father," she answered slyly.

I smiled and reached for my soup, caught somewhere between pride and sorrow.

"So, you say Link defeated Khar himself?" she then asked, the humor gone from her voice.

I breathed a quiet sigh. "Khar thought he had killed Link. He came after me, and he nearly had me… but Link had only lost consciousness. He came back in time to finish him."

Aveil nodded slowly, and I could see she wanted more information but hesitated to ask.

"He was under the curse's influence," I told her. "He managed to break free of it, but it nearly killed him… It may still kill him."

"It won't," she assured me. "Link is a fighter, the strongest I know. He will recover, and we will continue our journey to the Fortress."

"I hope you're right."

But I did not share her optimism. Aveil had not seen what I had seen. She did not know how damaged Link really was.

"You finish your soup," she then said, gently patting my knee before rising to her feet. "I want to return to the forest and recover what I can from your camp. I also wish to bury the dead," she added quietly.

"Won't you need help?" I asked, looking up at her with concern.

"I will make two trips if necessary. Don't worry about me; you just rest and recover."

I nodded, breathing another sigh. "I will try."

She turned toward the door, then paused before it.

"I will mark where they're buried," she said over her shoulder, "so we can come back for them and give them a proper burial."

"Don't bother with Khar," I replied, venom seeping into my voice. "Let the wolfos have what's left of him."

She nodded, her stern profile unreadable, then reached for the doorknob.

"And Aveil," I added in a softer voice, causing her to turn and meet my gaze, "please be careful."

She gave a small, strained smile. "I'll return before dark."

Then she closed the door, leaving me to finish my soup in the company of my troubled thoughts.

**xxxxxxx**

Aveil kept her word, though she returned after I had fallen asleep later that evening. I woke the next morning feeling much better, so I rose to wash up and dress before breakfast. I still felt a little unsteady on my feet, but Link lay just across the hall, and I wanted to be with him.

I sat at his bedside for a long time, dabbing the sweat from his face and neck. His mere proximity helped loosen the tight knot in my chest, but knowing he might never wake only tightened it again.

Of all his injuries, which showed no sign of healing, the stab wound on his leg concerned me the most. It was deep, and it had developed an infection. Aveil or Malon had treated his wounds twice each day, but I knew the medicine would not help him.

Aside from his wounds, knowing what I had witnessed in the forest that night haunted me. At first I had tried to deny Link could ever use the Triforce of Power, but the more I thought about it, the more certain I became. Somehow, Link had done the impossible.

He couldn't have miraculously acquired such power. Someone had lent it to him, most likely by telepathic means.

_But only Ganondorf could do that, and why would he help Link? And how is that even possible, if he's locked away in the Evil Realm? _

If he had escaped I would have felt it, and such was impossible while the Master Sword remained in its Pedestal. Still, I could not pretend to know the limitations of the Triforce of Power… Perhaps Ganondorf had found a way to extend his power back into Hyrule?

Quickly I dismissed the idea, suppressing the shudder it brought. Were it possible, he surely would have done more than torment Link over the past several months. If Ganondorf had gained some access to our world, it was highly restricted. Link was his tool, a means to reclaim his freedom. Or at least he would be, if he stopped resisting…

I realized I could only speculate, but such theories, fearful though they were, made sense to me.

_And exactly what is the necromancer's role in all of this? Does he seek to aid Ganondorf… or become him?_

Before I could explore that thought any further, the door quietly opened to reveal Malon holding a tray of food.

"It's good to see you up and about, your Majesty," she greeted me, setting the tray on a small table.

Like her father, she spoke with a county drawl, but it was softer, less noticeable. Beneath it I recognized a purely courteous tone. While she had expressed no hostility toward me, I knew I made her uncomfortable. It saddened me, but I couldn't blame her. I knew a good number of people blamed me for Ashton's rise to power, and the rumors which followed my flight from the castle had further damaged my reputation.

"You needn't use my title," I said gently. "Please use my name if you like."

Malon hesitated, her eyes still on the breakfast tray. "If you wish, Lady Zelda."

I sighed quietly, turning my attention back to Link. "Thank you for breakfast. It smells wonderful."

"I hope it's to your liking," she murmured, turning to meet my gaze. "I wanted to let you know that Miss Aveil returned with clothes and a bag of medicine from her trip to the forest last night. I washed the clothes—they're drying outside right now."

"Thank you, Malon, that's very kind of you."

"I also went through the medicine bag to check if anything would help Link. There was nothing we haven't tried, but I did find this little bottle… I'm not sure what it is, but it seems... special."

Curious, I rose from Link's bedside and took the small vial from her outstretched hand. The clear liquid appeared no different than regular water.

"Try shaking it a bit," Malon suggested, stepping closer.

Gently I jostled the vial—and gasped. The water began to sparkle and glow, as though thousands of tiny diamonds swirled about inside it. I could hardly believe my eyes.

_Sacred Water._

Until that moment I had thought Cleia exhausted our supply to cure the villagers from Aboda. Stalfos had attacked them with cursed weapons after all, and only the Sacred Water, drawn from a fairy fountain, could purify and heal their wounds.

The last time Link fell ill, he had needed more than Sacred Water. He needed the combined magic and direct touch of numerous fairies, something only a fountain could provide. But his wounds had been more serious then. This time, Sacred Water just might be enough to help him recover.

"Bless you, Cleia," I whispered, clutching the vial to my chest.

"What is it?" Malon asked.

"Sacred Water," I replied with a smile. "It contains fairy magic, which is exactly what Link needs."

Her face lit up, and for the first time I saw a genuine smile warm her pretty features, all the way to her blue eyes. Encouraged, I asked her to help me redress Link's wounds, and shyly she obliged.

"We should do his leg first," I said, moving the bottom of his blanket up to his knees. Gently I slipped my hand under his ankle, lifting his leg so Malon could unwrap the bloodied bandages. Placing them aside, she then retrieved fresh bandages and a clean cloth from a drawer. I let her dab away the blood oozing from the wound while I uncorked the vial. Then, with utmost caution, I slowly tipped it over Link's leg, holding my breath as I let five drops fall onto his wound.

"There," I murmured, corking the vial. "That should be enough. Now for the others."

We rebandaged his leg, and I moved to treat the smaller cuts on his chest and arms while Malon disposed of the old bandages. Once I had finished applying more fresh bandages, I straightened his covers and bent down to kiss his warm forehead. _Please wake for me soon._

"The bottle's only half empty," Malon said.

I turned to give her a smile. "Yes. Sacred Water is very potent. I want to see if this helps him before I use any more. I'm hoping he'll wake so he can drink the rest."

She nodded, smoothing the apron she wore over her long blue skirt. I realized she was avoiding my gaze again, which disappointed me.

"Well, you best eat your breakfast before it gets any colder," she said, tucking a lock of her light red hair behind her ear. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

"Actually, I was hoping you might join me," I replied gently.

"Me? I… I'm honored, Lady Zelda… but I've already eaten."

"How about a cup of tea, then? I could use the company... And I was hoping I could learn more about you."

She stared at me a moment, clearly surprised.

"...There isn't much to tell," she stammered, giving me a forced, nervous smile. "You already know I look after the horses here with my father."

"Tell me about it," I said, moving toward the table and gesturing to the opposite chair.

She shook her head, seemingly more flustered than flattered. "It would only bore you, Lady Zelda. My simple life is nothing compared to yours."

I pulled out my chair and sat down, pausing to look up at her. "Even my life has its share of boredom, Malon. I would never give up my duties to Hyrule, not for any reason, but a large part of me longs for a simpler life like yours."

Again she hesitated, and I waited patiently, trying not to show my eagerness. Finally she sighed.

"I'll get another teacup," she said quietly.

I nodded, giving her an appreciative smile before she left the room. Minutes later she returned with a teacup like my own—pale blue porcelain decorated with tiny white flowers.

"This is a lovely set," I said, taking the matching teapot and pouring her a cup.

"It was my mother's," she murmured. "She died when I was very young."

"I'm sorry," I said softly. "I'm sure she was a wonderful person."

"Yes."

Malon fell silent and sipped her tea, stifling the conversation. Sighing inwardly, I tried a different subject.

"I want to thank you for your hospitality," I told her, adding a spoonful of sugar to my cup. "I know you and your father are taking a serious risk by giving us shelter."

"It's our honor to have you as a guest," she said mechanically.

"We will leave as soon as Link is able to travel. I take it Aveil has explained his condition to you and your father?"

"Yes," she murmured, gazing into her cup. "More or less."

"Seeing him like that must frighten you."

She nodded slowly, tracing the flower pattern on her cup. "I don't understand much about magic. Is he… Can he be cured?"

"Yes," I said softly, lowering my gaze. "...But it will take time."

She looked up at me, and I could see she wanted to know more. But I sipped my tea in silence that time, unwilling to explain. I had no answers anyway, only hopes.

"You and Link knew each other as children," I said gently, wanting to lighten the conversation, "did you not?"

"Yes… I was eight years old when I met him. My father had gone to deliver milk to the castle, but he fell asleep before leaving the grounds."

"Sleeping on the job?" I smiled as I cut my sausage. "He didn't keep you waiting long; did he?"

"Oh, yes. I was waiting at the edge of Castletown when Link appeared. I asked him to wake my father if he saw him, and my father showed up shortly after."

"And you became friends with Link after that?"

She shrugged. "He visited the ranch from time to time, usually to see Epona. He also worked here for about a year… before he joined the military."

"That was when you and your father gave him Epona, correct? When he chose to join the military?"

"It was my idea," she said softly. "Epona, she… she really loved him."

My fork paused as I recognized the sorrow in her voice. The longing.

_Oh._

I lifted my gaze, seeing the light blush in her face.

_She has feelings for him._

How could I have been so stupid? _That_ was the reason she could not look me in the eye, the reason she seemed so uncomfortable around Link…

"And you," I said softly, watching her carefully, "...you cared for him too?"

She stared down at her hands, pressing her lips together.

"...I always knew there was someone else," she whispered, "but I never dreamed it was you."

"Malon—"

But she rose to her feet, her eyes avoiding mine.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, gathering her cup and saucer. "I should get back to my chores."

Swiftly she left the room, and I did not bother stopping her. For a while I just sat there, absorbing the sudden change.

_She must despise me._

I had never known the pain of unrequited love. For years I believed Link would never be mine, but that wasn't the same. I had known he returned my love, and that alone had brought me joy, even while he remained out of reach. How long had Malon struggled with her feelings? Had they lingered all these years, ever present and painful? Or had they merely resurfaced after seeing him again?

Sighing softly, I set down my teacup and rose from my chair, my appetite gone. I returned to Link's bedside, sinking into the chair as I watched him sleep. An unpleasant feeling lingered within me, and I took a moment to identify it.

Annoyance.

Her bitterness annoyed me. I realized I knew nothing about her past, nothing about her personal troubles, but that she could loathe me simply for being Link's wife… In the shadow of everything, it seemed such a small, trivial matter.

_Perhaps it isn't that simple. Perhaps she blames me for Link's condition. For everything that's happened…_

She wouldn't be the first.

_Stop it_, I scolded myself. _Put those thoughts out of your head. All that matters is that Link recovers._

I gazed at his troubled face, remembering his struggle in the forest. His tortured cries still rang through my ears, and the pain I had felt through our brief telepathic contact…

I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. My hand found his, and gently I swept my thumb over his knuckles.

_The sooner we move on, the better._

**xxxxxxx**

Link's fever did not break in the night as I'd hoped, but his wounds had begun to show signs of healing. And, much to my relief, it had been enough to help him regain consciousness the following afternoon.

I had nearly finished redressing his wounds when he began to stir, murmuring softly.

"Link?" Quickly I tied off the bandage and moved to take his hand. "Can you hear me?"

I touched his cheek, and weakly he turned his head toward me. His lips moved but spoke no words, and his eyes remained closed. But if he was awake enough to drink… Quickly I reached for the pitcher to pour him a glass of water. Then, uncorking the Sacred Water, I added it to his glass.

"Here, drink this," I told him gently. "You must be parched… and it should help break your fever."

I brought it to his lips, relieved when he did as I asked. Slowly I helped him finish the glass, wanting him to take every last drop of the Sacred Water, and set it aside.

"There," I murmured, stroking his damp hair. "Now if only you could eat something…"

His eyes twitched and then slowly opened, revealing a bright, feverish blue. He looked up at me, studying me a moment. "Zelda…" His voice came hushed and coarse, but I could hear relief in his tone.

"Yes, darling," I smiled and took his hand, kissing his fingers. "I'm right here. We're safe now."

"Where… are we...?"

"At Lon Lon Ranch. They're taking good care of us."

Link furrowed his brow, his eyes losing focus as he struggled to remember. I studied him closely, nervously. I did not want him to remember his actions that night in the forest.

"Aveil found us," I said, hoping to distract him. "After you defeated Khar."

"Khar…" Link looked back to me, his gaze settling on my neck. Quickly I brought my hand there, covering the faded bruises.

"He attacked me," I murmured. "He meant to do more, but you saved me. I thought I had lost you, but you came back."

I brought my hand to his cheek, giving him a sad smile. "But that's all over now. You need to eat something. How does a bowl of cuccoo noodle soup sound to you? It did wonders for me…"

But Link barely heard me. Slowly he lifted his hand, and I felt his trembling fingers brush my throat. I could see him probing his memories—until a look of horror crossed his face.

"No," he whispered. "I did this… _I _did this to you…"

"Link." Quickly I grabbed his arms, holding him still. "It wasn't you. I know that, and you know that."

"No!" He struggled and failed to remove my hands, too weak to resist me. Or perhaps he couldn't bring himself to fight me. "No, it _was_ me! I hurt you! I hurt you…"

His words dissolved into sobs as he closed his eyes and looked away, haunted by the memory.

"Link—"

"Leave me," he said weakly, pulling at my hands again. "Stay away from me."

"I'm not leaving you."

"Go! Don't even look at me!"

"Link, please don't do this…" His condition was serious enough without the added stress.

But he clutched his head, breathing heavily through clenched teeth. For a moment I thought he was fighting the curse again, and in my panic I released him.

"Link? Link, please listen to me..."

He just shook his head and turned onto his side, away from me.

"...I nearly killed you," he wept. "You…"

I heard countless emotions in his hushed words, but his shame and despair rang the clearest. Gently I touched his back, longing to comfort him.

"No!" he cried, jerking away with speed I didn't think he had. "Don't touch me!"

"Link—!"

But he had already tumbled off the bed, landing in a heap of blankets on the floor. I jumped to my feet and rushed around to find him lying on his side, shaking with silent sobs. He looked so helpless, so miserable, and knowing how much he hated himself brought a terrible ache to my chest. Slowly I knelt beside him, smoothing his hair back so I could see his face.

"You should have left me there," he whispered between hushed sobs, his eyes tightly closed. "...Sh—should have… let me…"

He trailed off, never finishing his statement, and I realized he had lost consciousness. I bent over him, checking his head for injury, but the blankets had thankfully slowed his fall.

"I will never leave you," I murmured, slowly caressing his back. "And I won't let you push me away." I leaned closer then, pressing a soft kiss to his pale, tear stained cheek. "You will get through this, and you will be stronger because of it."

Then gently I rested my head on his shoulder, struggling to take comfort in my own words.


	42. Chapter XLII

AN: Another emotional chapter, but with happier moments, I promise. I really wish I had more time to walk away from this and return to proofread with a fresh perspective, but I'd like to finish this rewrite before 2014, sooo... here you go! For me this chapter really marks the beginning of the end. D:

As always, thank you so, so much for the reviews. Please keep them coming! :)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XLII

_He lay cradled in my arms, his hands limp at his sides._ _His eyes stared through me, unfocused and empty._ _Blood flowed from a deep wound in his chest, staining his tunic and pooling around us. _

_A broken hilt lay at my feet, its cobalt surface covered in blood. Its blade lay in shattered, bloodied pieces around us._

_The Master Sword… was no more._

"_Link…" _

_My hushed, shuddering sobs filled the silence, echoing through a vast, empty chamber as I drew him closer. With a trembling hand I smoothed back his hair, my fingertips brushing the dark arterial lines which marred his once beautiful face. I clenched my teeth and pressed my forehead to his, weeping as I rocked him back and forth._

_Then a noise loud as thunder sounded above, and a blinding light filled the room, drawing my attention from Link's lifeless body. I shielded my eyes, struggling to identify the dark figure as his shadow fell over us, blotting out the light…_

With a cry I jerked awake, sitting up in my bed. A cold sweat clung to my body, and fresh tears still wet my face.

_A dream._

I wiped my brow and dried my tears with trembling hands, unable to stop the scene from replaying in my mind. Whether it was a vision, a warning, or simply a nightmare, I could not say.

_It doesn't matter. It will never happen. I won't allow it._

Pushing the dream to the back of my mind, I took a moment to observe my surroundings, trying to remember how I ended up back in my bed. I had fallen asleep at Link's bedside shortly after he lost consciousness. Someone, most likely Aveil, must have carried me back to my room. Judging by the weak sunlight seeping through the closed curtains, I had missed midday meal and woke in time for supper.

Frustrated that I had slept while Link lay in such a fragile state, I threw off the covers and moved for the door, opening it to find Malon leaving Link's room. She carried a tray of untouched food, and her troubled expression shifted to surprise at my sudden appearance.

"How is he?" I asked her, my voice still low with sleep.

"He woke just a short while ago," she told me quietly. "I think he had a nightmare of some kind; I heard him cry out. But he's refused to speak to anyone, and he won't eat anything."

Aveil appeared in the doorway beside her, leaning against the frame as she crossed her arms with a sigh.

"He won't even stay in his bed," she muttered. "Just sits on the floor beside it."

My heart sank, but I recognized his behavior. Link was punishing himself, denying himself comforts.

"Thank you, both of you," I said calmly. "I can handle it from here."

They moved aside as I strode into Link's room and quietly closed the door. There I paused a moment, summoning every scrap of my determination with a deep, quiet breath. One way or another, I would pull him out of despair.

The room was fairly dark, being on the eastern side of the house with the curtains drawn. At first I could not see Link, but as I walked around the bed I found him sitting on the floor with his back against the frame. His eyes were closed, his breathing labored.

_He's in pain._ I knew his wounds had not yet healed, but the curse still fought to overpower him. Even in his weakened, emotional state, and despite the added pain it brought him, Link still found the will to resist the Echo.

I reached for a damp cloth on the bedside table and carefully settled onto the floor beside him. Whether he heard me approach, I could not tell.

"Link…" Gently I dabbed his face, causing him to flinch and turn his head away. "Darling, please, you need to lie down…"

He did not respond, and I set the cloth aside, trying a different approach.

"You listen to me," I said softly. "What happened that night was not your doing. I know that in my heart, but I also know what I saw…" I paused, hesitant to share what I had seen. "The Triforce piece on your hand… was not Courage."

Link opened his eyes, staring toward the far wall as fear flooded his face.

"What happened to you, Link?" I asked him softly. "Do you remember using the Triforce of Power?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. "I heard you scream," he whispered. "I only wanted to reach you… but I was so weak… so weak…"

Link paused, clenching his teeth as he relived the memory.

"He… He offered me strength… I knew he meant to control me, but I… I had to save you…"

His voice broke, and I resisted the urge to touch him, to comfort him. I suppressed my emotions so he could release his.

"I felt a rush of energy," he told me, "…of incredible power… and I knew nothing but rage—_his_ rage. His will and mine, I no longer knew the difference…"

He paused to take another shuddering breath. "I could have used magic to finish him… but I wanted to use my hands. And I enjoyed it," he choked. "I… I lost myself in the darkness; I—I couldn't see beyond the rage. But then… I heard your voice…"

He opened his eyes, staring toward the wall as a tear slid down his face. "But it was too late. I had lost control, and I… I watched my hands close around your neck…"

His words dissolved into sobs, and gently I grasped his arm, willing him to listen.

"No, Link, you were stronger than him," I said firmly. "You stopped him. You saved me…"

Link just shook his head, struggling to regain his voice. "No, no, I should never have harmed you!" he cried. "I saw the terror in your eyes… terror of _me_…"

I took his face in my hands, gently turning his head to meet my gaze. In his eyes I saw endless pools of anguish, and I steeled myself against the ache it brought me.

"Not for a moment did I fear you," I said, my voice clear and steady. "I feared _him_, Link. I feared he had won, and that he would smother you in your own despair. Why do you think I touched you like this?" Tenderly I trailed my fingertips along his face, just as I did that night in the forest. "I wanted you to know I could never blame you… That I love you, no matter what happens…"

Link bowed his head and tried to pull away, but I kept his gaze fixed on me.

"I couldn't leave you then," I told him, hearing my own voice quiver, "and I won't leave you now. You need me more than ever, and I need you. We are stronger together; we always have been. Don't push me away…"

He lowered his gaze, and I felt his tears wet my fingers.

"Please, Link," I whispered, stroking my thumbs beneath his eyes, "come back to me…"

My hands slowly left his face as I watched him struggle within himself. He stared down at his clenched fists, torn between self-loathing and his need for me.

Then finally, just as I thought he would reject me again, Link turned and pressed his face into my shoulder, releasing his grief as he wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed. "…So sorry…"

"Oh, my love," I breathed, holding his head to my breast and kissing his hair. "My darling…"

I held him for a long time, whispering hushed endearments until the last of his tears—and mine—had been spent.

**xxxxxxx**

As Link began his slow emotional recovery, his physical condition continued to improve. His appetite began to return, allowing him to finish a small bowl of soup before he fell back into a restless sleep. I stayed by his side as he tossed and turned, tormented by nightmares. Occasionally I would hold his hand or stroke his face, wanting him to know I was there.

Unwilling to sleep across the hall from him, I asked Talon and Aveil to move my mattress into his room while he slept. That way I would know if he suffered any attacks, as he had back in the camp. This change was by no means uncomfortable, yet I, too, found myself restless, unable to sleep through the night. I dreamt of Link's lifeless body in my arms, of his blood soaking my clothes. I dreamt of a dark, familiar silhouette descending upon us from a portal of light…

"_Someday… When this seal is broken... That is when I will exterminate your descendants!"_

I woke with a start, Ganondorf's dark laughter ringing in my ears. With a shaking hand I raked back my hair, willing my pounding heart to calm.

_Those words… _ He had shouted them to Link and me before we sealed him in the Evil Realm all those years ago… _But why do I hear them now?_

The answer came to me in moments.

_Your descendants._

My hand moved to my belly, feeling the gentle swell that had recently appeared. It was barely noticeable but visible nonetheless. The realization had startled me, since it happened suddenly, seemingly overnight.

I had thought the visual evidence would help me bond with the child, but instead it left me feeling more vulnerable than ever. How could this tiny, fragile life thrive in me for five more months? How could I deliver him or her into the world? It seemed a frightening task I could never complete.

These worries had long plagued me, disrupting my sleep and affecting my dreams. Every morning I checked my sheets for blood, and every time I braced myself for the worst, no matter how many times I saw nothing. Soon I would begin to fear a stillbirth…

Pushing such horrid thoughts from my mind, I rose from my mattress to fetch a drink of water—

My gasp broke the silence as a sharp pain shot through my abdomen—the same pain I felt the day Link and I left the Resistance camp. He could not soothe it away this time, so carefully I lay back down, struggling to suppress my panic.

"It's all right…" I whispered aloud, more to myself than the baby. "This is normal… It will pass…"

Gently I caressed the sore area, forcing myself to take deep, slow breaths. But the fear remained, even as the pain began to fade, leaving me tense with anxiety. Desperate to be rid of my irrational fear, I forced myself deeper into a meditative state. The Triforce of Wisdom tingled on my hand, and I felt myself drift toward the warmth of its energy, seeking my innermost core. The bedroom had long fallen away, and slowly my fears followed, until I lay suspended in complete mental tranquility.

Then suddenly I sensed something more… something other than myself. Curious, I moved away from my center and toward the other presence. As I drew closer I felt it shine like a tiny beacon. It was so very small, yet amazingly strong.

And it was warm… warm like Link…

Shock jolted through me, threatening to break my concentration. But I forced myself to focus, desperate to connect, to touch my child's spirit…

_Can you feel me, little one…?_

I knew the child could not understand my words, but I had sent them with a strong wave of emotion, of love. The tiny presence responded to this, and I felt its spirit pulse in response to my proximity…

Sheer, overwhelming joy enveloped me as we made contact, so strong I nearly lost the connection.

_So much like Link… You are so much like Link…_

The child was too young, too underdeveloped to respond, but his mere existence was more than enough to amaze me. I stroked his spirit with my own, just as my hand would one day stroke his little head.

_My child… My son…_

My eyes flew open as my concentration broke. The feelings I had suppressed in my meditative state flooded my awareness, and I buried my face in my hands, quietly sobbing with joy.

_Our son… _I knew it with utmost certainty. _Our beautiful little boy… _

I felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from my chest, allowing the joy of motherhood to fill my soul. I pressed my hands to my abdomen, stunned by the protectiveness I felt for the tiny life inside. I loved my son with a fierceness I never dreamed I could possess.

The realization forced a laugh from deep inside me, as though it had been caged there all those months, waiting to be released. I clapped a hand over my mouth, muffling the rest as I reveled in my epiphany. My laughter soon faded into whispered prayers of thanks, and as sleep drew me back into its arms I felt a long awaited peace settle deep within my soul.

**xxxxxxx**

I woke a few hours later in the same high spirits, still soaring on the wave of joy my child had brought me. As usual I hovered over Link all morning long, relieved to find his fever had finally broken in the night. It seemed our fortune had completely turned around, and while I realized a difficult road still lay ahead, I felt prepared to walk it.

Link woke just before noon, feeling strong enough to leave his bed. Determined to lift his spirits, I had drawn him a bath while Malon prepared the midday meal. He spoke sweetly to me when I addressed him, but sorrow tinged his every word, and he rarely met my gaze.

Despite his quiet protests, I accompanied him during his bath to help wash his hair and back. I knew my attentiveness embarrassed him, but I would not allow his shame to come between us.

It pained me to see how thin he had become over the recent months. He had not lost all of his muscle, but he was, to use his own words, a shadow of the man he used to be. He seemed smaller, weaker. Even his once vibrant hair seemed faded, as though fighting the curse had aged him.

But he was still my Link, and I still desired him. Nothing would change how I felt about him. Normally a bath would have provided the perfect opportunity to express those feelings, but I knew such advances would not comfort him, not while his self-loathing consumed him. I did, however, take the opportunity to give him a much needed massage. I felt along his back and shoulders, finding knot after knot as he tensed beneath my touch.

"You don't have to do that," he said.

"I think I do," I replied, furrowing my brow as I worked on his shoulder. "You are so wound up it's a wonder you can move at all."

He fell silent, knowing he had no real reason to argue. Soon he began to relax, albeit reluctantly, and the hushed, occasional sighs betrayed his pleasure. A soft smile tugged at my lips, and I resisted the urge to kiss his neck.

Once I was satisfied that I had loosened every muscle along his back, neck, and shoulders, I gently wrung the water from his hair and reached for a towel.

"I can finish," he said, a pleading note in his soft voice. "You should go eat something."

Of course he wanted to dress himself, to conceal the black marks as quickly and discreetly as possible, away from my sympathetic eyes. While the sight of his scar saddened me, it no longer unnerved me. And while Link thought himself ugly, the word never entered my mind when I looked at him.

But I respected his wishes. Wrapping the towel around his shoulders, I pressed a soft kiss to his temple and left him to his privacy.

Back in our bedroom, Malon had left us a tray of sandwiches, along with steaming cups of soup and a pot of tea. I began to arrange them on the table when Link emerged from the adjoining bathroom, dressed in a long, dark blue shirt and brown trousers. He also wore a white undershirt with a high collar, laced to hide the markings on his neck.

"Zelda," he breathed, staring at me with a gentle but stunned expression. "You… You're…"

I furrowed my brow, then smiled when I realized what he meant.

"Oh, yes, I was wondering when you would notice," I said shyly, touching my abdomen as I approached him. "I was starting to fear I'd imagined it."

Tentatively he reached for me, his fingers brushing my waist until I took his hands and pressed them to my belly. The evidence there seemed so small when covered by his hands, and I wished he could sense the baby's presence as I had. Of course a telepathic connection was out of the question—and without the bond I doubted he could share my experience anyway.

But Link had never needed such evidence, and the visual proof of our child's growth seemed to astound him. A look of wonder softened his features as he slowly ran his hands over the small bump. He did not speak; his voice seemed to fail him as he absorbed the change in me.

"I wish you could feel him," I said softly. "His little spirit…"

Link looked at me, his hands pausing on my waist. "Him…?"

I nodded, smiling as I lifted my hand to his cheek.

"It's a boy, Link. A beautiful little boy like you…"

"A boy… like me?" He spoke with hushed awe, and his eyes glistened with tears.

"Oh, yes," I breathed. "His presence, it feels so much like yours…" Pride and joy welled up within me, rising with such force I feared I would burst. "And he's so strong, Link… So tiny but so strong…"

He held my gaze for the first time in days, his features soft with amazement. Then, in a surge of passion, he reached for my face and pressed his lips to mine, kissing me deeply.

Momentarily stunned, I quickly recovered and clutched at his shirt, kissing him with equal fervor. His sudden affections did nothing to stop the sobs building in my throat, and something between a breathy laugh and a muted sob escaped me when we parted for air.

"Oh, Link," I breathed, barely forming the words between our relentless kisses, "I wish I could tell you—how it felt—to finally know him—to love him as you do…"

"I knew you would," he murmured against my lips. "One way or another…"

Some sadness still lingered in his voice, but I refused to let it spoil the moment. Slowly I curled my arms up around his neck and gave him a playful smile.

"I believe the proper response is _I told you so_—delivered with a smug, antagonistic tone. Go on, say it. I can take it."

He gave me a fond, sad smile, his thumbs caressing the skin under my eyes.

"I love you, Zelda," he whispered, resting his forehead against mine.

"And I love you," I murmured, closing my eyes as he nuzzled my face. "But that doesn't mean you can't—"

He silenced me with another heated kiss, and my thoughts dissipated in a rush of bliss.

But something deep within me had come unsettled. The way he held me, it had changed somehow. Something still tore him up inside, and while our son had brought him happiness, it could not undo his sorrow. Not entirely.

Did his shame still interfere, or was it something more? What else could drive him to hold me like that… to kiss me as though he would never kiss me again?

Perhaps he believed he would never see our son, never share in the joy of raising him together. I had hoped the growth of our child would give him hope, but I realized then how it served as a painful reminder of everything he could lose.

_You won't lose anything. Because I won't lose you. Not now. Not until our son has grown into a man as strong and brave as you._

**xxxxxxx**

"Empty your mind… Let all your thoughts, all your worries fade away. Put them aside for now; focus on the task at hand."

Link and I sat cross-legged on his bed, facing each other as I guided him through a meditation session. He had asked me to help him better understand the Triforce of Courage, to help him channel its power with the hope of more effectively suppressing the Black Echo.

His sudden interest in this training had surprised me, since for years he had wanted to keep such power dormant within him. We had already agreed to start his training once we reached the Fortress, and even then he had shown some reluctance. Suddenly he had insisted we start the training that very day.

"As your concentration grows stronger," I instructed him, keeping my voice calm and steady. "Let the room fall away. Let all your senses quiet, until only my voice remains."

I waited a moment, watching as he sat with his eyes closed and his hands loosely placed on his knees. Link had years of experience in meditation, and I knew he would have little trouble following my instructions.

I grew concerned, however, when I saw him flinch and furrow his brow.

"What's wrong?"

"The darkness," he whispered. "It's… everywhere…"

Anxiousness fluttered in my chest. "Maybe we should stop…"

"No," he said quickly. "I can avoid it."

"I don't want you to strain yourself, Link. You're still recovering…"

"I'm all right, Zelda. Let's keep going."

I sighed lightly. "Continue to reach within yourself. Find the warmth of your core and let it guide you. Eventually my voice will also fade away. Once you find your center, the Triforce's power should be there. Lower your defenses; let its power flow through you. Let it strengthen you. It cannot control you, only aid you…"

I fell silent then, and Link did not urge me to keep talking. He had retreated deep within himself, seeking the power he had kept buried for so long. Finding it was the easy part. Letting its energy come alive was far more difficult, especially for Link.

A flash of gold caught my eye, and a ripple of excitement swept through me as the Triforce of Courage symbol flickered on his left hand. Link had summoned its power.

Seconds later, however, he gasped and clutched his knees, bending forward as his shoulders tensed.

"Link?" I touched his arm, alarmed by the sudden change. "Link, come back—"

He lifted his head, his eyes wide and filled with fear.

"Are you all right?" I asked as he fought to catch his breath. "What happened?"

"I felt it," he whispered. "The power… it's so strong…"

"That's good," I murmured. "You have no reason to fear it, Link…"

He shook his head. "I couldn't control it… I felt it, but… nothing happened."

I gave him a tender, knowing look. "Nothing happened because you wouldn't allow it. You still fear the power within you, and the Triforce senses that. It follows only your innermost wish. You say you want to learn how to control it, but deep down you still fear it."

Link lowered his gaze, seemingly ashamed, and gently I brought his gaze back to mine.

"Your power is a gift, Link. It is a part of you…" Tenderly I brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Why won't you embrace it?"

He hesitated, his blue eyes searching my face. "Back in the forest… when I used such power…"

I shook my head. "Link, that was the Triforce of Power you felt, not Courage. It could not obey your will, and what happened was not your doing. This time, you will be in complete control. But first you must trust in yourself…"

He held my gaze, and I could see my words brought him little comfort. This did not surprise me. I doubted he would ever forgive himself for what happened that night.

Then suddenly he winced and pressed a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"The headaches," he murmured, "I think they're starting again."

Fear pricked at my heart as I remembered the pain he endured back in the camp.

"We probably shouldn't attempt this again until we reach the Fortress," I said, slipping off the bed. "You lay down; I'll get some medicine to dull the pain—"

I paused when his hand caught mine, stopping me midstep.

"Don't bother," he said gently. "You know it won't help. Just close the curtains for now. It shouldn't last long."

Before I could do that, however, a rapid knock sounded at the door.

"It's Malon, may I come in?" Her muffled voice sounded uncharacteristically urgent.

"Yes, come in," I called, casting Link an inquisitive look.

She burst into the room, her red hair unkempt as if from running.

"Quick, you must hide—Miss Aveil spotted Vandelian soldiers out on the Field—they're headed this way!"

Her words struck like a blow, leaving me suddenly dizzy. Immediately Link was there, his hands holding me steady.

"What?" I breathed.

"They come here once in a while," she said as she tidied up the bed, "to look for evidence that we're aiding the Resistance."

"But what can we do?" I stammered, moving to help Link gather our belongings. "Where do we go?"

"This way—hurry!"

Once we had collected everything—which was thankfully very little—we followed Malon down the stairs onto the main level of the house. She led us into the formal sitting room, shoved a table aside, and knelt down to flip back the rug. Beneath it was a trap door.

"Down here," she said. "Hurry!"

Link urged me to go first, and quickly I climbed down the ladder into a pitch black room. A hand gently grabbed my arm, startling me as I stepped onto solid ground.

"Sorry!" Aveil's whisper came from the darkness. "It's just me."

Link climbed down after us, stumbling a bit when he touched the ground. I steadied him with an arm around his waist, knowing his headache had worsened.

"Try to be as quiet as possible," Malon called down to us. "I'll come back for you when they're gone."

With that the door clanged shut, leaving us in total blackness—until Link summoned a tiny flame to his palm. It was enough to illuminate the tiny room, which to my eyes could barely fit twenty people. It served as a cellar of sorts, as barrels and boxes had been stacked in the corners, but otherwise remained quite empty.

Quietly we set our bags down on the floor, and I moved to settle down against a wall. Across the room Aveil moved to do the same.

"Come here," I whispered to Link, extending a hand toward him. He knelt down beside me, and in the dim firelight I saw traces of pain in his face.

"Put the flame out and lie down," I instructed him, trying to keep my voice calm.

He did as I asked, and gently I guided his head to my lap, smoothing back his hair as he relaxed against me.

"How is your head?" I whispered.

"I'll be all right."

We fell silent then, listening to sound of one another's breathing, which seemed unnaturally loud in the small room.

_It's all right_, I told myself. _We're safe here. The Vandelians will leave, and the danger will pass. _Still my heart pounded in my throat.

We waited for what seemed like hours, until voices suddenly sounded above us. I recognized Talon's muffled tone, but a sharper, unfriendly voice cut him off. It, too, sounded familiar, though I couldn't place the speaker…

I jumped as heavy footsteps thudded against the floor above us, causing Link to gently squeeze my hand. I squeezed back, straining to hear the conversation.

"…too much longer. Soon we will return to Vandelius… should be quite comfortable in my home…"

My eyes widened as I recognized the voice. _Felix. That boar has his eye on Malon?_

"…begin the arrangements immediately. Lord Ashton has already given his approval…"

Malon's voice followed, but she spoke so softly I couldn't make out her response. Then the footsteps sounded again, followed by silence.

A long time passed before the door opened above us, revealing a patch of light which framed Malon's face.

"You can come up now," she said solemnly. "They've gone."

Link climbed to his feet and helped me to mine while Aveil moved to gather our things. Once we had all ascended the ladder, we sat in their sitting room to discuss what had taken place above us. Link and I sat across from each other, with Aveil beside him on the sofa. Malon sank into one of the armchairs while Talon stood beside her, his large hand resting on her petite shoulder.

"How often do the Vandelians come here?" Link asked them.

"About once a week," Talon replied. "They keep tabs on us, but that no good Felix just comes to harass my Malon."

Malon gazed down at her hands but said nothing.

"So we did hear him correctly," I said quietly. "Felix has a personal interest in Malon."

Felix, Captain of Ashton's military forces, had married years ago—his interest in Malon had nothing to do with courtship or marriage. She was to become another mistress of his, a temporary fixation forced into submission.

Talon nodded, balling his hand into a fist. "That arrogant scum just waltzed in here and claimed her like some kind of property."

"Papa, it's the only way he'll leave you and the ranch alone," Malon said softly.

"I would give up the ranch in a heartbeat if it meant protecting my Malon," he told us, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But I know it ain't that simple. There's no clean way out of this, not unless we flee. And where can we go?"

"You don't need to flee," I told him. "Before the end of this month, the Resistance will unleash their Final Strike and storm the castle. They will seize Ashton, and I will reclaim the throne. With Ashton gone, no one will touch you or your ranch."

Talon's eyes moved from me to Link, but he did not appear relieved.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said carefully. "But I have to ask, what if this attack fails? What should we do then?"

"Head to Goron City," Link said. "They can protect you. But I swear to you, the Resistance is well prepared for this attack. It will not fail."

Something in his tone roused a familiar, unsettling feeling within me, but I turned my attention to Malon.

"Malon," I said gently, holding her sad gaze, "I know what it's like to be trapped in a situation with a loathsome man like Felix. But once I reclaim the throne, he will never come near you or your father again. You will never set foot in Vandelius; you have my word."

She studied me a moment, her expression guarded. Then, a brief but appreciative smile flickered across her face. "Thank you," she murmured.

I returned her smile, then glanced toward Link, who gave me a gentle, knowing smile of his own. Behind it, however, I sensed the same thought that had occupied my mind for days, growing louder and louder.

_The sooner we move on, the better._

**xxxxxxx**

I awoke the following morning to find myself alone in Link's bed. We had slept in each other's arms for the first time in over a week, and despite everything I had enjoyed a restful, dreamless slumber.

Until I woke to find him missing, that was.

At first I had panicked, thinking he had run off and done something drastic and heroic. Rushing from the room, I found Malon and asked where he'd gone.

"_He's just outside, Lady Zelda," _she had assured me, startled by my anxiousness. _"He wanted to see Epona."_

Relieved, I had quickly dressed and hurried outside to find him. Fresh air tinged with the scent of horses filled my nose, and a cold breeze tugged at my long, loose hair. My anxiety lingered as I strode toward the corral, and once again I found myself pondering Link's behavior over the past few days.

The way he had reacted to the visible proof of our growing child, the sudden desire to master his control over the Triforce of Courage, even his willingness to share his bed… all of it had triggered warning bells in my head. I had thought he would continue to punish himself for that night in the forest, denying himself my affections and keeping me at arm's length. But he had often done the opposite, and I could not help but suspect something. His eyes always held such sorrow, especially during our closer, more intimate moments. Other times I would find him staring out the window, lost in his thoughts. If I asked what kept him so distracted, he would offer some vague response, always with a forced smile.

_I must find out what he's planning… before it's too late._

I found him leaning against the fence inside the corral, holding a blanket around his shoulders with one hand and stroking Epona's beautiful red coat with the other. She listened to him intently, clearly happy to be reunited with her master. Link soon noticed me coming, however, and gently sent the mare trotting off as I approached him.

"There you are," I greeted him with a smile. "You should have told me you were coming out here; I jumped to all sorts of horrid conclusions."

"I didn't mean to worry you," he replied, crossing his arms in the blanket. "You were still sleeping, and I wanted you to rest."

"Hm. Well, I do feel quite rested this morning. How about you?"

He shrugged. "Of course. I was with you."

I studied him a moment, wishing I could read his emotions. "Your leg must be feeling better, I hope?"

He smiled, but as usual it did not reach his eyes. "Good as new."

I gave him a withering look. "I doubt that. And what about your head? Any pain?"

He shook his head, as if to demonstrate his lack of pain. "None."

"Somehow I doubt that too. But I am glad to see you up and about."

I moved closer to him, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. The wind blew about us, rustling his hair and restoring some color to his face.

"You look good," I murmured, stroking his cheek with my thumb. "As you always do."

He gave me a cynical look, and with a sigh I uncrossed his arms to find his hands under the blanket.

"What are you thinking about out here all by yourself?" I asked, lacing his fingers with mine. _Something dark, I imagine_.

He glanced down at our joined hands, then met my gaze with a more genuine smile.

"I was thinking of names for the baby."

My heart skipped a beat. "Really?" I beamed. "Did you think of any you like?"

Again he looked down, suddenly unsure of himself. "Well, I only have… one possibility…"

I released his hand and brought it back to his cheek. "Tell me…"

He hesitated, then drew a deep breath, and I knew he wanted the name he had chosen.

"I thought that… we could maybe name him after Shayne—He was good to me," Link added, as if he needed to explain himself. "He was… the closest I ever had to a father."

"I know," I said softly, stroking his face. "And Shayne is a beautiful name."

"But your father," Link said, his smile fading. "He was also good to me… to us…"

_Of course._ Link feared naming our child Shayne would dishonor my father. To name him after my father, the late king, would be more traditional, more acceptable within the court.

"Yes," I nodded solemnly. "But… Nohansen would make a suitable _second_ name… don't you think?"

I tilted my head, giving him an inquisitive smile, and slowly he returned it.

"Shayne Nohansen Harkinian," he said quietly, pride deepening his tone.

I pressed a hand to my belly, feeling a pleasant shiver dance along my spine. Shayne was an uncommon name—almost as uncommon as Link's name—and it was not a king's name, yet paired with his second and surname, it held a kingly sound. The court may frown and furrow their brows, but I knew this was my child's name.

"It's perfect," I whispered.

"Are you sure it's what you want?" Link asked, his eyes searching my face. "If you have another name, or if you want to give it more thought…"

I shook my head. "I'm positive. Do you know what Shayne means in Ancient Hylian?"

Link thought a moment, then gave me a look of quiet awe. "'To shine,' isn't it?"

I nodded, another smile brightening my face. "This baby has been a light for us through most of this nightmare," I told him softly. "We lost our home, our marriage… but we've always had our child."

Link smiled, lifting his hand to caress my abdomen. "It is perfect," he agreed.

"Then it's decided," I said, reaching up around his neck. "We name our baby Shayne."

He drew me closer, wrapping the blanket around us as our lips met. We stood there as the wind blew around us, cocooned in warmth and love. I rested my head on his shoulder, burying my face against his neck—when something in the distance caught my eye. Over Link's shoulder I saw someone approach the corral, someone wearing dark clothes, with tightly bound white hair…

"Impa!" I gasped.

Immediately we parted, and I ran ahead to greet her. She also broke into a run, catching me in a tight embrace.

"Oh, Zelda, you impossible child," she breathed, grabbing my face and pressing a firm kiss to my forehead. "The moment you leave my sight some deadly assassin ambushes you…"

"And you," she said, moving to give Link a fierce hug. "You were supposed to stay out of trouble."

He gave her a weak smile. "I can't seem to avoid it."

"So I've heard." Gently she pulled down his collar, seeing how far the scar had spread. "Gods," she whispered. "We need to cleanse you as soon as possible. Have the headaches started?"

"Yes," I spoke up, worry seeping into my tone. "But just recently. Does he have time to reach the desert?"

"Yes, I think so, but Aveil and I will carry him there if we must." She gave me a reassuring smile. "That's why I'm here. I'm going to stay with you in the desert. I should never have left you in the first place."

"What about the Resistance?" Link asked.

"They'll have to manage without me. As of now, you two are my priority. I'll tell you all about the Resistance—after you've answered some questions of mine," she added, glancing back at me. "But let's do all that inside, shall we?"

.

"There's been a change of plans. The Resistance can't wait for you to reach the desert."

Link and I sat on the bed, listening to Impa as she paced the room. Aveil stood off to the side, her arms crossed as she listened in silence.

"We've received an urgent message from Kinsley," Impa informed us. "How he managed to communicate this, I don't know, but Ashton means to force the Gerudo out of the Valley and the Gorons out of Death Mountain. Out of Hyrule entirely, I imagine."

"Exactly how does he intend to this?" Aveil growled. "What has changed so suddenly?"

"I don't know what changed. I'm sure Ashton meant to do this sooner, but the Council must have held him back. If he isn't a monster in the eyes of the people by now, he soon will be."

An ominous chill swept through me as the weight of her words filled the room.

"Impa, what is his plan?" Link asked, his tone sharp with impatience.

She turned to face us, her expression grim.

"He means to unleash a Final Strike of his own—using his undead army, of course."

The three of us stared at her, fitting the pieces together in our minds. The resulting image showed a terrifying, merciless battle, one neither the Gerudo nor the Gorons could win.

"The undead are expendable, and they far outnumber either tribe," Impa said. "Potentially they could be up against the entire Underworld. More and more will come until both the Gerudo and the Gorons are driven out or until they surrender. And who's to say the dead will remain in those areas of Hyrule? They may spread across the land, attacking whatever village or farm they come upon before sunrise."

"How can we stop this?" I asked, struggling to suppress my panic. "We barely have enough fighters to storm the castle!"

"That's not all," Impa said quietly, her crimson eyes meeting mine. "Ashton plans to make a public announcement, stating he will unleash this attack… unless Zelda turns herself in."

A terrible weight formed in my chest, and I gripped the edge of the bed as the room began to sway.

"Out of the question," Link said.

"Of course it is. Which is why the Resistance must attack before Ashton does."

"And when is that?" Aveil asked.

Impa took a deep breath and released it. "The Final Strike begins tonight."

"Tonight?" I echoed, momentarily stunned. "So soon?"

"They have no choice. Which is why we should leave the ranch tonight, get as close to the Fortress as we can before the Strike begins."

Nervously I rubbed my arms, forcing my mind to think. "Link's leg hasn't completely healed, and his fever broke only a few days ago, but I suppose we don't have a choice…"

"We'll be doing a lot of walking," Impa said, "and we can take it slow if need be. Either way, we should at least put some distance between us and the ranch before dawn. We need to reach the Fortress as soon as possible, before Link's headaches get any worse."

She then turned to Link, who sat with his hands clasped as he stared down at the floor.

"How about it, Link?" she asked him. "You feel ready to leave tonight?"

He lifted his head, and something in his guarded, almost nervous expression triggered my anxiety.

"Link?" I murmured, watching him closely.

"Yes," he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper, "…but I'm not going with you."


	43. Chapter XLIII

AN: Yay, another update before October! :D Not much else to say about this one... I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you so much for the reviews! :)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XLIII

The three of us stared at him, momentarily speechless. A terrible fear closed around my heart, and I felt something intangible slip through my fingers. That thing was Link's safety, or more my control over it.

"And exactly where do you intend to go?" Impa asked him.

"To Castletown," he murmured. "I'm going to help the Resistance."

I rose from the bed, promptly moving to the window and crossing my arms. There I looked out toward the pasture, waiting for my anger to subside. Shouting would not bring him to his senses.

"Are you mad?" Aveil exclaimed. "They need _fighters_, Link, You're in no shape to fight. You know that. You'll only get yourself killed."

"The necromancer wants me alive," he replied solemnly. "Ashton won't kill me. Even if I can't destroy the staff, I can at least create a diversion."

"And how will you do that?"

"That I will discuss with Clef and the others. I'm sure I'll have to improvise."

"Even if you do succeed," Impa spoke up, "the necromancer will come for you. I'm guessing the Blood Bond no longer concerns you?"

Link's silence was all the answer I needed.

"Impa, Aveil," I said, turning from the window to face them. "I would like to speak with Link alone, please."

They hesitated but did as I asked, glancing back at Link before they closed the door behind them. A painful silence filled the room, thick with tension as he and I waited for the other to speak.

"How long?" I finally said, failing to rid my voice of anger. "How long have you been planning this? I knew something was troubling you these past few days, something beyond that night in the forest. But I thought you had put this suicidal nonsense behind you."

Link hesitated, staring down at his hands before lifting his gaze to mine.

"...I've feared it would come to this since the beginning," he said softly. "But then, after you left the castle, when you told me about the baby, I… I couldn't believe it. I began to hope that… maybe we could come out of this… with the family we've always wanted.

"But as things grew worse… as I began to feel this… weariness deep in my bones, I began to think this child came to us for a different reason. I thought, if I were to leave this world, you wouldn't be alone."

I listened to him in cold silence, suppressing my argument so he could finish.

"I began to pray for a son," he murmured. "Not because I prefer a son, but because too many could reject our daughter as Hyrule's heir. The Council would pressure you to marry again, and I want you to have a choice. Then, when you told me we're having a little boy… it felt like a sign."

"A sign for what, exactly?" I demanded, struggling to keep my voice steady. "You think that because I'm carrying our son that somehow gives you permission to give up? Link, a cleansing will buy you time; we just need to reach the Fortress…"

I trailed off when he rose from the bed and closed the distance between us, his hands finding mine.

"Darling, look at me," he said softly. "I will not survive another five months like this. I won't survive another five _weeks_ like this."

"But you haven't even received a proper cleansing," I argued. "They had to stop prematurely, because you weren't strong enough…"

"And I won't be strong enough the next time," he said gently. "The cleansing itself might kill me."

"But… But we only need to keep the curse from overwhelming you… You should have enough time to rest between cleansings—"

"Zelda," Link whispered, slowly shaking his head, "the Echo is too strong. I know. I feel it. I've felt it for a long time now. My spirit is willing, but my body can't take anymore of this."

"No," I snapped, jerking my hands from his. "Your spirit is hardly willing if you've given up. You agreed to take this journey, to stay in the Fortress with me and survive. If you felt this way when we started you never would have come. Something happened to you that night, after you lost control. Something broke inside you, and you won't let yourself heal."

He hesitated, his blue eyes searching mine. I steeled myself against the sadness I saw within them, holding his gaze as I awaited his response.

"…I have been torn," he admitted softly. "I want a life with you and Shayne more than anything… But yes, what happened that night made me realize I'm too great a threat to both of you.

"But I am not giving up," he added, determination strengthening his tone. "I told you I would never throw my life away, and that hasn't changed. If you are to have any chance of happiness, I need to make sure Ashton and the necromancer are gone from your life, so peace can return to Hyrule."

"The only thing you need to do is survive," I said sharply. "I will not have you sacrificing yourself—not for me, not for anyone."

Link sighed and reached for me, his hands caressing my waist.

"It's hardly a sacrifice if I'm already losing this fight," he said softly. "And If I am to die, I want to die for you, and for Shayne."

For a moment I held his gaze, knowing he meant every word. Then quickly I pulled away, crossing my arms as I turned my back to him. His determination frightened me, and desperately I searched for a way to change his mind.

"You've ignored my visions once," I murmured. "Would you risk it again?"

Silence followed as he registered my meaning.

"...What have you seen?" he asked me quietly.

I turned to face him, my face a mask of utmost seriousness.

"I saw you take the Master Sword and plunge it through your own heart—at the necromancer's command. I saw you dead in my arms, the Master Sword in pieces around us, just as the prophesy warned. I saw Ganondorf return, Link. The Seal was broken. Everything we've fought for was lost."

He considered my words, his expression guarded. I held my breath, hoping they would be enough. _They weren't the last time…_

"You believe these dreams were visions?"

"I know they were," I said firmly, taking a step toward him. "The last time you dismissed my warning, disaster followed. I know duty forced you from my side that time, but this… this is nothing more than an act of desperation, one doomed to fail. Link, I know this past week has been very difficult for you… You are not thinking clearly."

"No," he shook his head and anxiously grabbed my shoulders. "I _am_ thinking clearly, Zelda. The necromancer gains control only when I'm desperate enough to allow it. But as long as you stay out of this, as long as I know you're safe, he is powerless. He has nothing to use against me. No amount of pain will make me draw the Master Sword. As long as you do not interfere, your vision—the prophesy—none of it will not come to pass; I swear it."

I stared at him, aware of the panic searing through my veins and cluttering my thoughts.

"How can you do this to me?" I whispered. "How can you choose to leave our child fatherless before he's even born, and me a widow? I've already faced that anguish, and I will _not_ face it again. I will not have our son watch me wither with grief over the father he wished he knew."

Link took my face in his hands, tenderly stroking his thumbs below my eyes.

"You are too strong to wither," he said softly, his voice thick with sorrow. "Your flame might weaken at times, but it will never die. Shayne will see your sadness, but he will love you for your strength. You will give him a life of happiness, and he will bring you joy in return. I know that in my heart, and it is the only reason I can bring myself to walk away…"

I studied his face, feeling my eyes brim with tears. His words held a clear and unsettling sense of reality. Losing Link would rip my soul in two; only half of me would remain. But I would linger on without him, rising each morning through love for our son and devotion to our people. It would not be an empty life, not with Shayne, but it would be terribly lonely, filled with long and painful nights.

_No!_ Rebelliousness flared within me. _No, I won't allow it!_

Link misread my rigid stance as one of surrender and drew me into his arms.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, holding me tight. "But you can't save me, Zelda… My fate is sealed… I can't escape it, no matter how much I want to…" He pressed his face into my hair, struggling to suppress his tears. "I'm so sorry..."

Slowly I responded, bringing my arms up around him and burying my face against his shoulder. I held him not because of grief, but because of guilt. For in that moment, I made a bold and frightening decision.

I would not give him a choice. I would stop him, no matter what it took.

Gently I pulled away, loosening my hold as Link slowly released me.

"I need some air," I muttered, chancing a look in his eyes. "Don't you dare follow me. I'll be back to change your mind."

I heard him breathe a quiet sigh as I strode toward the door and closed it behind me. I paused there a moment, wiping my eyes as I thrust my doubt aside. Then I hurried down the hall and descended the stairs to find Impa and Aveil in the sitting room, waiting. Both jumped to their feet the moment they saw me.

"Let me guess," Aveil said as Impa moved to my side, "he won't change his mind, not even for you."

I shook my head, and Impa moved to caress my back.

"We won't let him," she soothed. "We'll find a way."

"There's only one way," I said quietly. "His mind is set; he will not cooperate. If we are to protect him, we must do so against his will."

"What do you mean?" Aveil asked, arching a crimson brow.

I hesitated, realizing there was no gentle way to explain my intentions.

"Impa," I asked her, "do you have any more needles in your pack?"

A rare look of shock claimed Impa's face, and I practically heard Aveil's jaw drop.

"You want to put him out?" the Gerudo stammered.

"Of course I don't _want_ to. He's given me no other choice."

She sighed. "So then what? We keep him unconscious until we reach the Fortress? Lock him in one of our cells? He can get out, you know."

"We're not going to the Fortress," I replied, keeping my voice calm.

Again they stared.

"You mean to stay here?" Impa asked, incredulous.

"No." I paused to swallow, wetting my dry throat. "I will go to Castletown, to aid the Resistance in Link's stead."

Impa's expression hardened while Aveil gaped a second time.

"I thought we already decided that would be a bad idea," she said.

"I know how it sounds, but the circumstances have changed, and we can't turn our backs this time. If the Resistance fails, too many will suffer. And the Fortress is hardly safe for us if Ashton means to drive the Gerudo out of Hyrule"

Impa and Aveil glanced at each other, considering my words.

"Link wanted to destroy the staff," I continued, "or at least distract Ashton from using it during the Final Strike. He would never accomplish this, not in his condition. But I have an advantage. If I turn myself in, as Ashton demands, and if I act as though I've given up, I'm quite sure I'll end up in his chambers."

"But you cannot channel your Gift," Aveil said. "How will you destroy the staff?"

"I don't have to destroy it," I replied. "I simply need to keep it out of his reach, hide it if I must. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure the Final Strike succeeds."

"And how will you do that?"

I pressed my lips together, biting back my frustration. "I will have to improvise, just as Link said."

"Link also meant to confront the necromancer," Impa murmured, studying me worriedly. "You are in no condition to face him either."

"Ashton wants me for himself," I reminded her. "I very much doubt he will deliver me to the necromancer. Link wanted to face everything at once. But if I go, we can reverse this disaster one victory at a time."

Impa and Aveil fell silent, having thankfully run out of arguments.

"...I have a few needles left," Impa finally said. "One should put him out until morning. But are you really prepared to do this to him? To betray his trust like this?"

"He would do the same for me," I replied, trying not to dwell on her words. "And I would rather risk his forgiveness than his life."

She sighed. "Fine. Then I will allow this on one condition."

I looked at her, seeing the rare tenderness behind her startling red eyes.

"I'm going with you," she said firmly.

I blinked, then gave her a sad but appreciative smile.

"Good," I murmured. "I was hoping you would."

.

After retrieving a toxic needle from Impa's pack in the room she shared with Aveil, I slipped it into my sleeve, making sure I could draw it with a mere flick of my wrist. It was a skill I had once used against my enemies, back during the Imprisoning War, when I had masqueraded as Sheik of the Sheikah. I never imagined I would use it against Link, and the thought brought a lump to my throat.

"…_Are you really prepared to do this to him?"_

Impa's words rang through my mind, but I did not hesitate. I had sworn to protect Link, even from himself. If betraying his trust was the only way, then I had to take that risk.

I returned to our room to find him lying on the bed, one knee bent and one arm draped over his eyes. I could tell, just by his posture, that he had not made peace with his decision. Compassion wrenched at my heart. I knew he only wanted to do what he thought was best for me and Shayne—and for Hyrule, no less. His own parents had given their lives to save him, and all his life Link had recognized their sacrifice as the ultimate act of love. I knew that, no matter how much he wanted to live, he would give his life for our son.

But I also knew his sacrifice would be in vain. Link was emotionally compromised, and I had to stop him from destroying himself. I, too, acted out of love.

Quietly I moved to lie down on the bed, cuddling up against him and resting my head on his shoulder. Part of me still hoped to dissuade him, but I knew he would not give in. He was much too brave for that.

Link lifted his arm to stroke my hair, and I felt him press a lingering kiss to my forehead.

"You know I love you," he whispered, his lips brushing my skin, "that I've always loved you… don't you?"

"If you love me then stay with me," I said quietly. "Live for me, Link."

He sighed and pulled away, rising from the bed and moving to the window. He gazed outside a moment, gripping the ledge as fought within himself. Then he bowed his head, his shoulders sagging with weariness.

"I wish I could, Zelda…" The longing in his hushed voice ripped into my heart. "I wish to the gods I could stay…"

He trailed off, and I rose from the bed to approach him. It killed me to see him so anguished, so frightened and unsure of himself, and I fought to urge to embrace him. Tears stung my eyes as I cautiously I slipped the needle into my hand…

Then suddenly he turned, and my heart lurched as I thrust my hand behind my back. But Link suspected nothing. Gently he took my face in his hands, his eyes gazing desperately into mine.

"I won't fail you," he choked. "I swear it…"

Then he brought his face to mine, kissing me as he fought to control his emotions. I responded with some reservation, feeling his composure weaken with every kiss.

_Do it, _I ordered myself. _Now._

I watched my hand move up toward his neck, the needle firmly grasped in my steady fingers…

It happened so fast. Link broke the kiss with a gasp, his hand finding the needle embedded in the side of his neck. Quickly he pulled it out, registering what I had done before he met my gaze with a look of shock.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as tears streaked my face.

He barely managed my name before his knees gave out. Immediately I caught him, supporting him as we sank to the floor. Thankfully the toxin worked quickly, and Link lost consciousness before my knees touched the wooden boards. I held him close, burying my face in his hair as I wept. Part of me could hardly believe what I'd done.

Moments later I heard a knock, and the door opened as Impa peeked inside. Silently she entered the room, Aveil close behind. I looked up only when I felt them gently take Link from my arms.

"He'll be all right, Zelda," Impa soothed. "Let's get him into bed."

Carefully she slipped her arms under Link's while Aveil grabbed his legs. Drying my tears on my sleeve, I moved to pull back the covers as they lifted him up off the floor. Once they had lain him down I pulled the blankets over him while Impa adjusted his pillow.

"Foolish boy," she murmured, brushing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. "Shouldering a burden too heavy to bear."

Gently I stroked his hand, still shaken by the weight my deception. My betrayal.

"You did what you had to do, Zelda," Impa assured me. "He will see that in time."

I nodded, taking a moment to bury my guilt and clear my head. I would deal with the consequences later.

"What now?" Aveil asked. "When will you two leave? And how will you get into Castletown?"

"It doesn't matter if I'm caught," I replied. "I'm turning myself in anyway. But Impa, you should find another way into Castletown. You're an outlaw too, after all, and you're no good to anyone in a dungeon."

Impa sighed. "I suppose you have a point. But we should at least inform the Resistance Leaders."

I furrowed my brow. "How can we reach them?"

"There is another way into Castletown," she replied. "Months ago Link and Darunia arranged to have the Gorons dig a tunnel from Kakariko into Castletown. It took months to complete, but they finished in time for the Final Strike."

I stared at her, stunned by this sudden information.

"Why have I not heard about this?"

Impa sighed. "Only the Leaders know about it, and Link ordered them not to tell you. He feared the knowledge would inspire you to take matters into your own hands, as you are doing this very moment."

I frowned, feeling a minor flare of anger. Quickly I pushed it away, remembering all the risks I had taken over the past few months. I had given Link every reason to withhold such information.

Still, it bothered me that we resorted to such things to protect each other. Between his secrecy and my recklessness, had we become less willing to trust each other? Or was it simply a matter of desperate times calling for desperate measures?

I felt the latter was true, and I hoped Link felt the same way. It was something we would have to sort out together, once the disaster was over.

"We'll have to reach Kakariko by nightfall," Impa said. "I know how to avoid the guards. Reaching the tunnel undetected will be the hardest part." She then turned to me, her eyes boring into mine. "We'll have to leave at dusk. Are you sure you're prepared for this?"

I took a deep breath and gave her a firm nod. "I am."

**xxxxxxx**

We spent the rest of the day preparing for our mission. Impa walked me through the path we would take, describing the way into Kakariko, how to reach the tunnel, and the location of the Resistance hideout in Castletown. Again and again she repeated herself, until I had memorized every step.

We packed light, arming ourselves with knives and daggers. I had changed out of my dress into a dark brown tunic—worn without the belt—and leggings. My weapons had been strapped to my thighs and hidden in my boots. Finally after braiding my hair down my back, I threw on my cloak and pinned it in place.

Habitually my eyes glanced in the mirror, seeing a young, determined girl who looked nothing like a queen.

_But I am Queen,_ I told my solemn reflection. _And tonight I reclaim my throne._

The thought evoked a quiet but profound feeling I could not place. Nervousness? Relief?

I turned from the mirror with a sigh, letting my eyes rest on Link's still form. My guilt came creeping back as I approached his bedside, but I did not regret my actions. I saw no other way to save him.

Carefully I sank onto the edge of the bed, stroking his cheek as I watched him sleep. I gazed at his face, reimprinting every curve of his features upon my memory. It was not the face I had known in our recent years together, not quite. His suffering had changed his appearance. The shadows remained under his eyes, despite his days of constant rest. His cheekbones, once handsomely defined, had become too prominent. His features carried a look of permanent weariness that brought a fearful ache to my heart.

But I would restore him. I would free him from the necromancer's grasp, and I would help him regain his strength.

Slowly I brought my face down to his, my lips hovering above his before I tilted my head to kiss his cheek.

"Please forgive me," I whispered, resting my forehead against his.

Then gently I tore myself away, fighting the urge to look back as I promptly left the room.

Impa waited downstairs, accompanied by Talon and Malon. They all looked up as I descended the stairs.

"Are you ready?" Impa asked me gently.

I nodded, then looked to Talon and Malon.

"I wish I could offer you more than my thanks," I told them. "But for now that's all I can give. I cannot express how much I appreciate your kind and generous hospitality. Link would not have survived without your help."

Talon shook his head and waved his hands. "We would never turn you or Link away, Lady Zelda. Or anyone in need, for that matter."

"I know you wouldn't," I said, giving him a gentle smile. "But nevertheless, I owe you a debt of gratitude. I only hope I can repay you once everything has been set right again."

"All I want is to have that Felix done away with," he scowled. "We don't need anything else."

I nodded. "If all goes according to plan, he will be."

Talon nodded, and the hope in his eyes helped lift my struggling spirits.

"We'll watch over Link," he said gently. "Don't you worry about him."

"Thank you," I whispered, feeling my throat tighten. "I will return for him personally, as soon as possible."

He nodded, and we shook hands before I bid him and Malon farewell. Then I turned for the door, Impa at my heels.

The brisk, evening breeze clung to me the moment I stepped outside. Quickly I reached for my hood, pulling it over my head as we walked toward the horses Talon had prepared for us. Aveil stood beside them, waiting to say her goodbyes.

"Lady Zelda, wait!"

I blinked, turning at the sound of Malon's voice. She came hurrying over to us, clutching a yellow shawl around her shoulders.

"Lady Zelda, I…" she glanced at Impa, who clasped her hands behind her back.

"I'll be with Aveil," she murmured, catching my eye before walking away. I knew what she meant to say. _We shouldn't linger_.

"I… I just wanted to apologize for my rude behavior the other day," Malon said.

"It's all right, Malon; I understand—"

"No, it's not what you think," she said hurriedly. "It's true I once had feelings for Link, but that was a long time ago. I've moved on. It's just… when you came here with him in such a state, those feelings came rushing back, and I—I blamed you for everything. For losing any chance with Link, for the trouble with Felix… Deep down I knew it wasn't really your fault—I've always known that—but… but it was easier to blame you… And I'm sorry for that. You are nothing like I imagined you to be, and I—I'm glad I was able to learn more about you."

I studied her a moment, somewhat taken aback. Clearly the matter had been weighing on her mind.

"Thank you, Malon," I said quietly. "That means a lot to me."

"Zelda," Impa called, and I turned to see she had already mounted her horse.

"I'm sorry," Malon said nervously. "I just wanted to let you know—I probably said too much…"

"No, not at all, I appreciate your honesty." I gave her a small but reassuring smile and offered her my hand. "Until our next meeting."

She returned my smile, and we shook hands before I turned away, relieved that we had parted on friendly terms.

"Well, I've never liked goodbyes," Aveil said as I approached her. "So, may the Sisters keep you safe, and I'll see you again soon."

I smiled. "Thank you, Aveil. For everything."

We shared a quick embrace, and I placed my foot in the stirrup—only to pause and turn back to the Gerudo.

"Aveil…" I said, worry lining my face, "...if I don't return before he wakes, you must not let him leave this ranch. Do whatever you must to keep him here. His life could depend on it. And try to keep him calm… Anxiety, desperation, it pushes him to lose control…"

Aveil stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"I'll take care of Link," she assured me. "You just worry about yourself, all right?"

I nodded, pushing away my fear. "Right."

She stepped back as I mounted, offering us a final wave as we urged our horses toward the entrance gate. Seconds later we were flying across Hyrule Field, racing time itself as twilight darkened into night.


	44. Chapter XLIV

AN: Wow, the last chapter got some great reactions. o.o This was a pain to edit, but I hope it's worth the wait!

And today I reached 500 followers! What a milestone! D: Thank you so much!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XLIV

The last of the sun's rays had faded by the time we reached Kakariko, and the surrounding darkness provided the cover Impa and I needed to enter the village unseen. We left our horses at the bank of Zora's River and scaled the rocky wall up onto the surrounding cliffs. Impa had brought Link's hookshot, which made our efforts safer and quicker. We moved from ledge to ledge, ascending the base of Death Mountain until we were even with the rooftops of Kakariko's lower level. From there we jumped onto the closest rooftop and climbed down into the village.

The people of Kakariko had begun to return since the attack all those weeks ago, but only a few homes—those fortunately spared from the fire—bore lit windows. I could see evidence of construction here and there, most likely overseen by Vandelians. They stood guard at nearly every major street corner, but Impa and I managed to avoid them as we moved through the village building by building.

"There," Impa whispered, pointing to a darkened home across the street. "The tunnel begins beneath that house."

We took a roundabout path toward it, avoiding a guard patrolling the street. Then we took off in a run—

"Halt!"

Impa and I skidded to a stop as another guard suddenly appeared in our path.

"Drop your hoods," he barked. "Identify yourselves!"

My heart sank as I recognized his Hylian accent. I could only imagine how many of my own soldiers had chosen to serve under Ashton. Such was the safer choice, the cowardly choice.

Impa wasted no time. The guard had barely spoken before she flew at him, her daggers ready. He blocked her attack with his spear, and the two struggled for the upper hand, their weapons locked. Quickly I drew my own dagger and slipped behind the guard, striking him over the head with the hilt. He grunted and dropped his spear, falling to the ground at our feet.

"We have to tie him up somewhere," Impa said, glancing around. "He's too close to the tunnel."

Thus we backtracked a ways, dragging the unconscious guard to the nearest abandoned house, one still damaged by the fire. We set him down against the charred wall, and Impa reached for the hem of her cloak, tearing off two long strips. I took one and tied it around his ankles while she bound his wrists behind his back. Then she tore a third piece to tie over his mouth.

"There," she muttered. "That should hold him until dawn."

We then hurried on toward the house which stood over the tunnel's entrance, reaching it without further interruption. It, too, had been damaged in the fire, but the floor remained intact, concealing the secret held beneath.

Impa paused before two cellar doors lying flat on the ground and lifted them, urging me to go first.

"Be careful going down the steps," she whispered.

I did so, practically crawling as I felt my way down. Impa quietly closed the doors behind her, forcing us to move in pitch darkness. Eventually my feet touched solid ground, and I moved aside to give Impa room. Her footsteps soon followed, and moments later a dim orange light appeared, coming from a lantern in her hand.

"Over here," she whispered, beckoning me to the back of the cellar.

Behind a stack of barrels lay a row of wooden planks, crudely nailed together. Impa bent down and pushed the makeshift cover aside, revealing a gaping black hole. Setting the lantern on the floor, she then climbed down into the hole, grabbed the lantern, and turned to offer me her hand. I took it, letting her help me down into the tunnel.

"We'll come straight into Castletown from here," she told me, lifting the lantern to study my face. "How are you doing?"

I nodded. "I'm fine. Let's keep moving."

.

Aside from our muted footsteps, the tunnel stretched before us in silent darkness. Thoughts I had previously suppressed began to surface, filling my mind with noise. Over and over I saw Link's stunned face, the pained disbelief in his eyes…

_Drugging him and running off with his child—again, _a voice growled within me. _Are these the actions of a wife? A mother? A queen?_

Doubt gnawed at my insides, and questions I had not allowed myself to consider emerged, pricking like internal thorns.

_Is this a mistake?_

Confronting Ashton did not place my life in serious danger, since he wanted me alive and well… _but what about Shayne?_

Fear fluttered about my chest, cold and unsettling. Placing myself within Ashton's reach meant placing my son at risk. Back at the ranch I had not bothered with this crucial fact. In my mind I had pictured myself distracting Ashton until Clef and the others arrived to force his surrender, but suppose something went wrong? Suppose the Final Strike failed, as it very well could, and I found myself trapped in the castle once again? With the Ocarina in the necromancer's grasp, and the Resistance scattered as winter drew near, who would come to my aid?

My eyes settled on Impa's back as she walked ahead of me. But what could she do? What could any of the Sages do? They had their own lives to consider, and those of their people.

_And Link… _Aveil would try to keep him calm, weaving lie after lie, but I knew better. I knew he would panic and come after me, most likely to his death. Aveil and the others would try to restrain him, but nothing could bar Link from me. In his desperation he would yield to the curse once again, gaining the strength he needed to reach me, and there he would fall right into the necromancer's hands…

_And Shayne, our beautiful little boy… _How could I protect him then? Suppose Ashton wasted no time in forcing a miscarriage?

I pressed a protective hand to my belly, slowing to a stop as a wave of nausea swept through me.

_"You deliberately put yourself and our child in danger!" _Link's harsh voice rang through my ears, emerging from the memory of our argument back in Aboda. "_Nothing you say can justify this, not for me."_

"Zelda?"

I lifted my head as Impa approached, concern lining her face.

"What's wrong?" she murmured, setting the lantern on the ground. "Do you feel sick?"

I swallowed, struggling to find my voice.

"…What if this is a mistake?" I whispered. "What if it all goes wrong?"

"It could," she murmured, studying me gently. "Are you having second thoughts?"

I hesitated, lowering my gaze as I considered the risks.

"…If I run from this," I said, forcing some strength into my voice, "I turn my back on my people—on all the tribes. But if I go, I place my child at risk. I know Link should have been the one to face this, but I couldn't…" I shook my head, struggling to speak as tears built in my throat. "…I couldn't let him go…"

"Of course not," she soothed. "He couldn't possibly have succeeded, not in his condition. He might have made things worse, bringing the necromancer into this."

"He's so ill, Impa," I choked. "If he had been stronger, if he'd had a chance, I would have let him go… I've done it before…"

"I know you have," she murmured. "You've always tried to put Hyrule's needs before your own."

_Hyrule's needs before my own. _

_Duty before desire. _

I had been taught to follow this code all my life, yet I found myself struggling to separate the two. Which had pushed me to cross so many lines? I wanted to protect Link from destroying himself, and I wanted to save my people from the horrors Ashton meant to unleash. My duties required me to act… but at what cost? I could not risk my son. I _would_ _not_.

"I'm not so sure about that," I said, bitterness lacing my tone. "I'm supposed to be the Keeper of Wisdom, but I feel I've lost all sense of it. I don't know what's driving me anymore."

"No plan will be without risk," Impa said, gently caressing my arm, "Let's take this one step at a time. We still have to speak with the Leaders."

I nodded, forcing myself to take a deep breath.

"And Zelda," she added, reaching for my chin as her tone grew more serious, "I never had any intention of letting you step foot in that castle without a more solid plan. If I don't approve of this after our meeting with the Leaders, I won't let you go any further. That is my duty to you, all right?"

I held her stern gaze, knowing she would do anything in her power to keep me—and Shayne—safe. Just as Link had tried to do. Finding no reason to argue, I gave her a solemn nod. "All right."

Her face softened as she cupped my cheek.

"But let's not despair just yet, all right?"

She drew me into a warm embrace, and I clung to her, closing my eyes as I struggled to bury my uncertainty.

"What if he can't forgive me?" I whispered.

Gently she pulled away, studying me with sympathetic eyes.

"Would you forgive him if he did the same to you?"

I hesitated, furrowing my brow. "I can't imagine being in his position," I whispered. "He's been tormented for so long… I was his only comfort, and I betrayed him."

"That's too harsh a word. You're only trying to save his life. He knows that."

I shook my head. "It was his choice, and I took that away from him. I had no right to leave against his wishes." My voice fell to a whisper as I blinked back tears. "I've gone too far this time."

"Link loves you, Zelda," Impa said softly, "and he will forgive you. It might take time, but he will."

I nodded, but I drew no comfort from her words. I wasn't sure I deserved his forgiveness. The prospect of devising a more solid plan with the Leaders gave me the strength to hope. But if we failed to reverse our crisis by dawn, all would be lost. Everything depended on our success.

_Everything._

**xxxxxxx**

Fresh water flowed into Castletown from Zora's River through a barred drain on the eastern side of the great wall. From there it entered an underground system which divided the water throughout the town. The tunnel intercepted that waterway, Impa informed me, enabling the Resistance Leaders to enter Castletown unseen.

It also allowed them to move throughout the city undetected, emerging back onto the streets through small, concealed maintenance portals. Link had given the Leaders the locations of these portals, but they mostly used the eastern portal. It lay just outside the East-Side Alleys, where the Resistance operated in secret.

Impa and I walked single-file along a narrow ledge which ran beside the waterway, searching for a ladder to the eastern portal. The sound of running water echoed through the passageways, disrupting my dreary thoughts. Inside my heart pounded against my chest; I could scarcely believe I was back in Castletown. Knowing I stood so close to home brought mixed feelings, though apprehension overshadowed them all.

"Here it is," Impa spoke, raising her lantern to illuminate the narrow ladder. It rose high above our heads, its metallic surface gleaming in the light.

Carefully she stepped past it and grabbed a rung with her free hand.

"Grab ahold," she instructed me.

I did so, watching as she bent down to extinguish the lantern. For a few moments I saw nothing but blackness, and I listened as Impa carefully climbed the ladder. Moments later a nearly nonexistent crescent of light appeared as she slid the portal cover aside.

"It's clear," she assured me.

I began my ascent as she pulled herself up onto the street. Once I had reached the top she took my arm and helped me out before pushing the cover back in place. Magically it merged with the street, invisible once again.

"This way," she whispered, taking my wrist.

She led me down a narrow street, and carefully we moved deeper into the East-Side Alleys. My awareness sharpened as my eyes darted about, and I noticed our surroundings grew more impoverished as we progressed. Conditions appeared to have worsened since I'd last stepped foot in the Alleys, and I feared to see how the rest of Castletown had fared under Ashton's rule.

Eventually Impa slowed to a stop before a dark and seemingly abandoned shack, one of many lining the empty street. She rapped against the door three times, pausing before the last knock. Someone inside responded with three knocks, pausing after the first. Impa then replied with a third pattern, and I heard the _click _of a lock. Slowly the door opened to reveal Lieutenant Derrick's grim face. He glanced at Impa through the narrow crack, and I stepped forward so he could see my face as well. Surprise softened his rugged features and quickly he stepped back to let us inside.

My heart skipped a beat as the door closed behind us, for I recognized the interior immediately. It was the same place Link had used back when he disguised himself as the mysterious rogue, Shade. I had stood in that very room when I learned the truth of his survival…

Just thinking about Link brought another painful wave of guilt, and I quickly pushed it away. Instead I focused on the company surrounding me, mildly stunned to find the room crowded with at least a dozen men. I recognized only a few faces, including Clef's.

"Your Majesty?" he stammered as stepped forward, his familiar, bearded face etched with confusion. "I'm glad to see you're all right, but… aren't you supposed to be at the Fortress?"

"We heard you changed your plans," I replied calmly, "so we changed ours. I've come to help you, if possible."

His confusion shifted to alarm. "Help us? But, your Majesty, it's far too dangerous—"

"Let's put that argument aside for the moment," Impa spoke up. "First we would like to hear your plan for the Final Strike—in detail."

Clef hesitated. "I'm guessing you came here through the tunnel?"

"Yes," Impa replied. "She knows."

He nodded, his dark, gentle eyes meeting mine. "I'm sure it was empty when you passed through, but soon more of our fighters will start coming through the tunnel and filling the waterways. Then two of our men here will sneak over to the drawbridge and destroy it—with this."

He gestured toward the small table at his side, and upon it I saw an item resembling a small barrel. I raised my brow, recognizing it immediately. _A Goron keg bomb. _They were extremely powerful and used only for specific purposes, such as warfare or construction.

"We didn't want to take any chances with the drawbridge," Clef told me, noticing my startled expression. "Destroying it will allow other fighters to enter Castletown. The Gorons can't fit through those maintenance portals, and we need them to force open the castle gates. The Gerudo will soon follow on horseback. They have a large group waiting in the woods not too far from here—the folks at Lon Lon helped provide the horses. We have fighters scattered all around Castletown, secretly waiting to attack."

He drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly, and I realized how tired he appeared. I imagined the thought of rescuing Siena helped overcome his weariness.

"The explosion will be the signal," he continued. "No civilians are close enough to be harmed by it, but the fighters under the town will hear it, and everyone watching should see it. Once that keg takes out the drawbridge, we all spring in to action. We'll head directly for the castle, clearing a path for the Gorons to smash through the gates. Then we'll storm the castle as planned, taking out as many Vandelians as possible while the Leaders head for Ashton's chambers. With his soldiers scattered throughout Hyrule, he and his guards will be outnumbered and caught off guard, two advantages in our favor."

I pressed my lips together, pondering their plan and noting its risks.

"It's a solid plan," I said quietly, "but Ashton will likely use the staff and flee before you reach him."

"It'll take some time for the dead to reach us," Clef reminded me, "since they can't emerge from just anywhere. They'll rise from the Field, mostly. And we won't let Ashton escape."

"The dead will soon outnumber you," I told him. "You will not survive the night."

"Which is why we'll attack just a couple hours before dawn. If the dead start to overwhelm us, they'll soon vanish at sun's first light."

"Yes…" I nodded solemnly, "but they will have raided the civilians' homes by then."

Clef's shoulders sagged in a heavy sigh.

"That… is the major flaw in our plan," he admitted. "We barely have enough fighters to storm the castle, and we can't spare enough men to protect the civilians. Link was supposed to prevent this from happening, but now it's a risk we'll have to take."

I hesitated, clenching my fists as I pictured the dead invading my people's homes and slaughtering innocent families. Men, women, children… Screams echoed through my mind, phantoms from old memories of the Imprisoning War. Kakariko had already suffered a similar fate…

_No!_ I closed my eyes, shutting out the nightmarish images. _I won't let it happen again._

I turned to Clef, rigid with determination.

"I will go in Link's stead," I told him firmly. "I will make sure Ashton does not use the staff."

He studied me a moment, reluctance in his eyes, and the room filled with quiet murmurs.

"Forgive me, your Majesty…" he said carefully, "but you left the castle to protect your child, did you not?"

His implication brought a flare of anger, but I pushed it away. He was right, after all.

"I am well aware of the risks, Captain," I replied, managing to keep my voice calm. "And I have no intention of jeopardizing my child. If Ashton tries to harm me, or if you fail to capture him in time…" my heart pounded as I forced the words from my lips, "...I will kill him myself."

Shock filled every inch of the small room as everyone stared in silence, their jaws slack and their eyes wide. Even Impa seemed stunned by my sudden declaration.

"I realize Ashton would make a valuable hostage," I continued, "and I will only do this if I see no alternative. Killing to reclaim my throne would make me no better than Ashton, but killing to protect my child is another matter entirely. I've played his game long enough, and I will not hesitate to end it."

A few men nodded, their faces softening with approval.

"If it does come to that," Clef murmured, "you will need a weapon."

"Yes," I nodded, "but it will have to be concealed, one the guards won't find."

Again silence fell as we gave this some thought.

"Maybe you don't need to kill him," Impa spoke up, her voice quiet. "Maybe you could put him out instead."

I met her gaze, knowing she referred to her needles. The thought of inflicting the same harm upon Ashton and Link disturbed me.

"No good," I murmured. "I would have to be very close to him, and he always grabs my wrists. Without my magic he'll overpower me. I can't risk hand-to-hand combat."

More silence. With another twinge of remorse I remembered how quickly the toxin had worked on Link. My lips still burned from his desperate kisses, and I hated myself for using his affections to hurt him.

But then, before I could sink back into my pit of guilt, an idea struck.

_A kiss._ I touched my lips, remembering how savagely Ashton had kissed them before the engagement party all those months ago. Surely he would attempt it again…?

"Impa," I said quietly. "Do you still make your own toxin for your needles?"

"Of course."

"Do you have any on hand?"

"I have a small amount. Why?"

"If I put some on my lips," I said, meeting her inquisitive gaze, "I could drug him without using my hands."

I heard a few dark chuckles at this suggestion, and Impa gave me a slow smile.

"That you could," she said.

"It's true that would work against Ashton," Clef spoke, "but what about this necromancer? That toxin or weapon will protect you from him."

I turned to meet his worried gaze. "I have reason to believe Ashton will not involve the necromancer," I told him.

"How is that?"

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "Less than a fortnight ago, while on our way to the Fortress, our group was attacked by a Tar Alemian assassin named Jedrek Khar. Ashton's father had sentenced him to life in a Vandelian prison, and only Ashton could have released him. He sent Khar after us, which meant he acted against the necromancer's wishes, since he wants Link alive."

"Khar," Clef whispered. "The deadliest of all Tar Alemian assassins. Is he…?"

"Dead," I said coldly. "Link finished him."

"Finished him?" Clef breathed. "In his condition?"

I avoided his gaze, realizing how strange it seemed that Link could defeat one of the deadliest assassins yet remain unable to assist with the Final Strike.

"It was… a team effort," I murmured. "And Link was injured. His condition has steadily worsened since the attack, which is why I am here.

"The point I'm trying to make," I continued, eager to change the subject, "is that Ashton has been a reluctant ally of the necromancer since the beginning. He agreed to cooperate under the impression that Link would not survive the necromancer's rituals. Obviously he was mislead.

"The necromancer has also never attempted to capture me," I added. "If he wanted to harm me, he surely would have done it by now."

The men seemed to accept that, though I could tell it puzzled them. Even I failed to understand the necromancer's methods. He knew I constantly interfered with the Black Echo's progress, yet for some reason he never tried to stop me.

I suddenly heard Link's voice in my head, speaking the words I knew had come from the necromancer.

"_You have interfered for the last time…"_

I knew the necromancer could still come for me. I was the perfect bait, after all. But the odds that he would appear in those few hours before dawn were slim. It was a small risk, one I felt obligated to take, for my people.

"In the unlikely chance that this necromancer does appear," Clef addressed the others, "her Majesty's protection becomes our main priority. Is that understood?"

"Understood," his men echoed.

I took a deep breath and slowly released it, trying to calm my nerves.

_It won't happen. He doesn't even know you're here. Ashton's hunted me for months; he won't tolerate any interruptions._

Yet despite all my reasoning, I could not ignore the sliver of doubt still lodged in the back of my mind.

.

After we had finished our discussion, Impa retrieved the toxin from her pack and sat me down on a stool.

"Now, I'm applying this to the outer edge of your lips," she told me. "The drug only works only once it enters the body—it cannot seep through the skin. Obviously I would not allow this if I didn't know that for certain. So as long as you don't lick your lips, you'll be fine."

I nodded, watching as she dipped her smallest finger into the clear, sticky substance that resembled tree sap. "I don't make a habit of doing that."

"Good," she murmured. "Now hold still."

I did so, lifting my chin as she applied the cold toxin to my lips. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, as though waiting for me to drop unconscious.

"There," she murmured once she had finished. "Again, _don't lick your lips_."

"I won't," I assured her, rising from my stool.

"We might as well remove your weapons," she then said, looking me over. "But keep one of your smaller knives, just in case. We can hide it with wrappings on your wrist. The guards might find it, but it's worth a try."

I began to disarm myself while she retrieved some wrappings from her pack. Clef moved to collect my spare weapons while Impa began to wrap the knife against my wrist between layers of cloth. She kept a small section of the hilt exposed, so I could quickly draw it. Then she wrapped the other wrist to help avoid suspicion.

"How's that?" she asked as I pulled down my sleeves, covering the wrappings. "Not too tight?"

I ran my fingers along the underside of my wrist, tracing the covered hilt of the small blade.

"It's fine," I assured her. "Thank you."

Impa pressed her lips together, studying me with worried eyes. Then she placed her hands on my shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"_I will come for you during the Strike," _she told me, speaking in her native tongue. _"Do whatever you must to protect yourself."_

I held her gaze, struggling to hide my fear as I caressed her arm. "I will."

She nodded and pressed a firm kiss to my forehead before reluctantly pulling away. Clef stepped forward to give my hand a strong, meaningful shake.

"We won't let you down," he said, his eyes bright with sincerity.

I smiled gently, despite the fear which tightened around my heart. "Nor I you."

Then I pulled up my hood and moved for the door, stepping out in the brisk night air.

**xxxxxxx**

The buildings grew steadily more inviting as I left the East-Side Alleys and approached the town square. Familiar homes, restaurants, and shops surrounded me, their windows aglow with warm, cozy light. Yet the streets remained oddly quiet. The evening had worn past midnight, but that hardly mattered in the taverns. Music and laughter had once seeped through their thick walls, but that night they stood in solemn silence. Merrymaking had no place under the shadow of a tyrant.

"You there! Stop!"

Two guards appeared at the end of the street, their Vandelian armor clattering as they hurried toward me. I slowed to a stop and watched them come.

_So it's begun. No turning back._

"Wandering the streets after nightfall is forbidden!" the taller guard barked. "Identify yourself!"

I reached back to drop my hood, letting them see my face. Their faces, barely visible beneath their helmets, showed little response.

"State your name and residence," the same guard demanded.

I gave an inward sigh. "Take me to your king," I said calmly. "He will surely recognize me."

They blinked, pondering my words before realization set in.

"Well, I'll be damned," the shorter guard breathed.

"So," the other spat, lifting his spear and pointing it toward me, "you've come crawling back at last. Lord Ashton will be most pleased."

I eyed him coldly, fighting a wince as the shorter guard jerked my arms behind my back and clamped shackles around my wrists. Nervously I felt my knife press against my skin, out of reach. The taller guard moved to check for weapons, searching me from head to toe. I stiffened, my heart pounding as his gloved hands patted my sides. His swift search surprised me, however. I half expected him to grope me, but he seemed afraid to touch me.

_Of course,_ I thought dryly,_ I'm Ashton's property._

He then dropped his hands and stepped back. "She's clean."

"Of course I am," I growled. "I'm turning myself in."

"Be quiet and walk," the other guard hissed, prodding my back with the flat end of his spear.

Steadily we moved through the empty marketplace, passing more lit windows and quiet homes. In the distance I heard an owl hoot, and I wondered if Kaepora Gaebora followed. The thought comforted me, if only slightly.

On and on we walked, pausing only once we reached the castle gates. The familiar spires of Hyrule Castle rose in the distance, dimly visible against the starless night sky. I gazed upon them, struggling to mask my emotions. Mixed feelings fluttered about my chest, but in that moment I ached for my old life with Link.

_You'll have it back—that and more. You'll have a better life with Shayne._

_...If you succeed, _a darker voice reminded me.

I took a deep breath as the gates swung open, allowing us to enter the castle grounds.

_I will succeed, _I told myself. _I must._

The guards forced me along the wide, curved path which led to the castle entrance, and wistfully I glanced toward the concealed Great Fairy Fountain, knowing it lay dark and empty. Then I raised my eyes to the pale stone walls of my home, watching it grow more and more ominous as we approached. By the time we stood before the inner gate, it loomed before me like a malevolent being.

The iron gates immediately parted, and for the first time in months I climbed the castle's grand entranceway stairs, feeling each step grow heavier than the last. Whatever fond feelings I had experienced at seeing my home again had slid back into the recesses of my mind. My hands twitched against my shackles, itching to break free, to shield Shayne from harm. My cloak covered any visible evidence of my pregnancy, but I knew rumor had already brewed suspicion.

Two more Vandelian guards moved to open the heavy entrance doors. I felt my captor's spear prod my back, pushing me inside. The doors closed behind us with a resounding _thud_.

Rows of weak torches lined the great stone walls, providing inadequate light about the massive chamber. The place stood silent as a tomb, and our footsteps echoed against the smooth stone floor.

As we approached the throne, I spied more guards waiting there, still as statues. Contempt churned my stomach as I recognized the more decorated soldier.

_Felix. _

"Well, well, well," he smirked as I came to a stop before him, "what an unexpected delight this is. Just when I had begun to think you would never come to your senses."

I met his gaze evenly, holding my head high.

"I have come to speak with Ashton," I said calmly.

"And so you will," he replied, flashing a devious grin. "Lord Ashton will be overjoyed to see you after all this time." His emerald gaze then moved to my captors. "I assume she's been searched?"

"Yes, Captain. She is unarmed."

"Good. Have her brought to her chambers and cleaned up. I want her looking far more presentable for—"

"Thank you, Captain, that's quite enough."

I turned my head, swallowing my disgust as I recognized the source of the interruption. An older man dressed in a long, dark robe strode into the chamber, his cold eyes fixed on me.

_Vasilis. _Of course Ashton's newest dog had come for me.

"Continue with your duties," he told Felix. "I will take her to Lord Ashton."

The captain hesitated, clearly considering an objection. He decided against it, however, and gave a small, rigid bow.

"As you wish, minister," he said coldly.

"Guards," Vasilis then addressed my captors, "remove her shackles."

They did so, reluctantly. I pulled away and adjusted my cloak, making sure I was completely covered.

"Return to your posts," Vasilis added with his usual air of self-importance. "Your Majesty, if you would follow me."

I followed him out of the entrance chamber and into the adjoining corridor, glaring at his back. As usual the castle stood quite empty at such a late hour. The nobles had long retired, and the servants moved about the castle by their own stairways and hidden passages.

"I suppose it's pointless to inquire where you've been all this time," Vasilis spoke as he fell in step beside me. He turned his head in a sideways glance, but I kept my eyes focused on the grand stairway ahead.

"I've come to reason with Ashton," I told him. "That is all you need to know."

He fell silent as we ascended the stairway.

"I didn't think you would return anytime soon," he then murmured. "Should I assume the Resistance is failing?"

Beneath my calm, queenly exterior my heart thudded with nerves. "Assume what you will."

The silence resumed as we continued up the stairway, passing guards on every floor—more than Ian had ever assigned around the castle. Each wore Vandelian armor, and their constant presence felt intrusive.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked when he led me off the stairway onto the eastern wing—which I had previously shared with Link.

"Lord Ashton will expect to see you in more flattering attire," he answered dryly.

I sighed inwardly, knowing few of my closely tailored gowns would still fit me.

_Well, this is one way to enlighten him._

I noticed no guards stood posted along the corridor, which made sense, considering it had been unoccupied for weeks. Once we had reached my chambers, Vasilis grabbed one of the knobs and opened the door, gesturing for me to enter first.

I do so, slowing to a stop as I absorbed the familiar blue walls, the polished furniture, the unlit fireplace… Memories of happier times filled my mind, bringing tears to my eyes.

The door closed behind me, and quickly I blinked them away before turning to Vasilis.

"I will summon the maids to help you change into a more suitable gown—"

"I'm afraid that will be more difficult than you realize," I cut him off.

He frowned. "Your Majesty, I'm trying to help you—"

"Help me?" I demanded. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"My support of Ashton's rule ended weeks ago," he confessed, lowering his tone. "He's tearing this kingdom apart; you think I don't see that? I've feigned my support all this time because I refused to be locked away like the other ministers. They're no help to you or anyone."

I stared at him, thoroughly skeptical.

"Why should I believe you? Your words mean nothing to me."

"I brought you here for two reasons," he replied, impatience sharpening his tone. "First, we discuss some sort of plan to destroy that staff before Ashton puts you under constant supervision. Second—"

"_You_ wish to destroy the staff?" I exclaimed.

"I've wanted that cursed thing gone since the beginning. Now, you said you've come here to reason with Ashton, which brings me to my second point. I meant it when I said you should wear something more suitable. You know he will be far more susceptible to you if your appearance pleases him."

I gave a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, I very much doubt my appearance will please him, especially in one of those gowns."

The minister frowned. "I don't understand."

"There is a reason I left the castle, Vasilis. And it wasn't to free myself from becoming Ashton's wife, horrid as that would be."

"Why did you, then?"

Slowly I lifted my hands, parting my cloak as I pressed them to my belly.

"I left because I feared for the life of my child."

I watched his eyes move to my midriff, seeing the truth of my words. Outwardly he did not react, but by his rigid expression I knew he was not pleased.

"So," he muttered, turning away from me, "the rumors are true." He then sank into a chair and breathed a heavy sigh, as though burdened by the news of my child. "…I assume your ex-husband is the father?"

"Of course he is," I snapped. "And we conceived this child long before the annulment. He is a legitimate heir, and unless you are a complete traitor you will ensure his protection as well as mine, regardless of your views toward Link."

Vasilis met my fierce gaze with a grim expression, and wordlessly I challenged him to reject my son. Link's son.

Finally he nodded, breathing another quiet sigh.

"I understand that, your Majesty," he replied. "Of course I will ensure your protection—and that of the child."

"Swear it," I hissed. "Kneel and swear it to me now."

Obediently he left his chair and knelt before me. Placing his right hand over his heart, he raised his left and lifted his eyes to mine.

"I swear, by the Divine Sisters, to defend you, Queen Zelda of Hyrule, and your child, Hyrule's heir."

I stared down at him, searching his aged, familiar face for some sign of deception. I found none, but I refused to trust him nonetheless.

"If you dare betray me," I said, motioning for him to rise, "you will suffer grave consequences."

_And by no means does this undo your months of service to Ashton._

Vasilis nodded and rose to his feet. "I have no intention of betraying you. Right now we need to discuss a strategy."

I arched a cynical brow. "If Ashton loses the staff, he loses control of Hyrule. Does that not concern you?"

The minister scoffed. "I've already told you I no longer support him. He's as much of a failure as your ex-husband was bound to be."

"Don't you _dare_ compare him to Link," I hissed. "He isn't half the man Link is."

"In character, perhaps," Vasilis admitted. "But that isn't enough to make a king. A true king must be a perfect blend of noble blood and noble character, much like your father was."

"How many times must I tell you that's nonsense? There is no such thing as _superior_ blood. My husband has all the qualities of a true king. My father recognized that, but you've always been too prejudiced to see it!"

I broke off and turned away, rubbing my forehead as I suppressed another wave of tears. Just talking about Link brought back all the pain I felt for him.

"Please, we don't have time to argue this," Vasilis said sharply. "We must devise a plan to destroy the staff before Ashton has you under his control."

"I've already got one," I said coldly. "I simply need time alone with him. In his chambers, preferably."

"You've already tried that," Vasilis reminded me. "You only landed yourself in the dungeons."

"Yes, I remember," I snapped. "I won't try to destroy the staff this time. I only need to keep it out of Ashton's reach until it can be destroyed."

"You mean you intend to hide it?"

I hesitated, knowing I could not mention the Final Strike. Or the toxin on my lips.

"…Yes. I know this castle better than anyone."

"And how do you expect to accomplish this?"

"Just… keep the guards out of my way. I'll have to improvise."

"That's it?"

"I don't have much of a choice; do I? If you have a better idea then by all means speak!"

"Surely you can do _something_ with your magic."

I tensed, hearing the exasperation in his tone.

"I could do more than enough," I said quietly. "But I can no longer use magic."

"_What?_" the minister stared at me, thoroughly shocked. "You can't summon it at all?"

"I can summon it," I corrected him, "but I cannot execute a spell. Even attempting to do so exhausts me."

"I don't understand; how can you lose the ability to channel your Gift?"

"We don't have time to discuss this," I said, waving a dismissive hand. "I don't need magic to control Ashton. Now, take me to him as I am. I will not redress myself for him."

I knew it would be impossible to hide my secret, especially since Ashton already suspected it, but seeing the evidence might send him into a rage, something I hoped to avoid as long as I could.

Vasilis crossed his arms and studied me. "Fix your hair. Then I will take you to him."

I heard the implication in his words. _You need all the help you can get._

But he was right. If I meant to take advantage of Ashton's lust for me, I needed to look more alluring.

Vasilis waited in the sitting room while I moved into the bedroom and sat before my vanity, struggling to ignore the familiar surroundings of my home. Quickly I unbraided my hair and brushed it, letting the golden waves fall over my shoulders and down my back. I even took the time to paint my eyes.

My appearance still lacked the elegance and glamour of a queen, but I no longer looked like a lost peasant girl. Satisfied, I rose to my feet, readjusted my cloak, and strode back into the sitting room.

Vasilis turned from the cold, unlit fireplace, and I could see the approval in his face.

"Better," he said as he stepped toward me. "But before we go you should have some sort of weapon to defend yourself. Ashton has become rather… unpredictable as of late."

"I'm already armed," I told him. "You honestly think I would approach him without a weapon?"

The minister raised his brow, but he did not ask to see the weapon. "Good. That saves us time. Are you ready, then?"

I nodded, hoping the fear which stirred in my chest did not show on my face. "Let's go."

**xxxxxxx**

Flanked by three Vandelian guards, I followed Vasilis toward my father's old chambers—now Ashton's chambers—in the northern wing of the castle. More dim torches lit the walls, casting ominous shadows before us. Apprehension had begun to strain my determination, and my heart pounded so fiercely I feared the others would hear.

_Get ahold of yourself. Everyone is counting on you. You must not fail them._

But in the moment, my closest fears lay with Shayne.

I swallowed, letting my hand brush my abdomen beneath the heavy folds of my cloak. _I'll protect you, little one,_ I told him, trying to sound braver than I felt._ Don't worry._

The intricate carvings on my father's old double doors soon came into view, and the guards moved to open them without command. Someone had informed them of my arrival, which meant Ashton knew as well.

I followed Vasilis through the doorway, finding myself in a familiar room warmly lit by a glowing fire. Some Vandelian decor had been added here and there, but otherwise the place remained relatively unchanged since my father had used it. A pang of sadness throbbed within me, one quickly replaced by anger. I knew Ashton had chosen my father's chambers to dishonor him—and to spite me.

These thoughts quickly faded to the back of my mind, however. For there, seated with his back to the fire, was the very man I'd come to see.

_Ashton._

He sat in my father's old armchair, dressed in a loose, open white shirt and dark, tailored trousers—his evening garments. His long, unbound hair fell about his shoulders, and his chin rested on his entwined fingers as he watched me with a hawk-like gaze. Our eyes met, and his icy, emerald gaze sent a chill down my spine. Still I held my head high, calmly staring back as he slowly straightened in his chair.

"So," he murmured, "my bride has returned to me at last."


	45. Chapter XLV

AN: A shorter chapter this time, but I'll keep the updates coming as quickly as possible. Only five more to go! o.o

As always, thank you so much for all your wonderful feedback! I can't say that enough! =^-^=

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XLV

A silent, heavy tension filled the room, broken only by the hushed, crackling fireplace. All eyes remained fixed upon Ashton, waiting for him to make the next move. He studied me a moment longer, then gripped the armrests of his chair and slowly rose to his feet.

I stood my ground as he approached, struggling to read him. A frown pulled at his hardened features, and every step seemed to fuel his anger. Then he stopped within arm's reach, staring with his cold, glaring green eyes. My hands tensed beneath my cloak, ready to shield Shayne from potential attack.

But Ashton's gaze never left mine—not until he raised his hand and struck me across the face.

I could have avoided the blow, but I let it come. I even let myself cry out, stumbling back as I cradled my burning cheek. I knew Ashton drew some twisted pleasure from such a display. I wanted him to underestimate me, to believe he held complete control.

"Leave us," I heard him address the guards. They quickly obeyed, but Vasilis lingered in my peripheral vision, ready to assist me. I ignored him. I could handle a slap to the face.

"I said _leave us_," Ashton growled, his eyes settling on the minister.

I straightened and quickly adjusted my cloak, aware of the cut on my cheek from Ashton's ring. The blood would likely please him as well.

Seeing I didn't need his help, Vasilis bowed and left the room. The double doors closed behind him, leaving the two of us alone.

"Ashton—"

"Silence," he hissed. "You will speak when I permit it."

I obeyed, closing my mouth and lowering my gaze. He clasped his hands behind his back, observing me as he paced the room.

"I must say I'm surprised," he murmured, suspicion coloring his tone. "All this time I've assumed that bastard had gotten you pregnant…" He paused, studying me with narrowed eyes. "But if that were true, why would you return to me now…?"

I drew a deep, slow breath, feigning the onslaught of tears. I knew what I had to say.

"I… I was… with child…"

I broke off, bowing my head as though struggling to keep my composure. My performance did not require much effort. The pain of my past miscarriage and the fear of losing Shayne made everything all too real.

Ashton hesitated, and I imagined him arching a curious brow. I dared not look at his face, fearing he would see through my lies.

"Don't tell me you lost another," he scoffed. He sounded pleased yet dubious, and I held my breath, bracing myself for his next move.

But he merely walked away, facing the fire as he crossed his arms.

"So you've come crawling back to me… because he no longer wants you."

My head snapped up, and a fierce retort nearly slipped past my lips.

_Wait_, my inner voice cautioned. _Play along…_

"That is why you're here; is it not?" Ashton turned from the fire to meet my gaze. "Two miscarriages in less than a year. How could he desire you after such failure? How could he even look at you, knowing you might never give him children?"

I looked away, staring into the flames and struggling to maintain my concentration. His words unearthed old feelings, insecurities I thought I had finally overcome. My throat grew painfully tight, and I closed my eyes, forcing myself to think of the Resistance and everyone else who counted on me.

"I… I left to protect my child," I said, regaining some strength in my voice. "That duty was taken from me, so I've returned to serve my people."

"Then why slink back in the middle of the night?" Ashton murmured, moving to pace around behind me. "Why not make a show of such devotion, in the light of day? I want the truth, Zelda. Are you truly here to serve, or are you here because you have nowhere else to turn?"

I hesitated, trying to understand why it mattered to him. Could it be that, if Link had rejected me, Ashton no longer found me desirable? Could my helpless approach rob him of the personal victory he so desired?

"My life does not revolve around Link," I said bitterly. "It cannot, no matter how much I want it to. I belong first and foremost to Hyrule."

The lies came easily, weaving themselves from twisted truths.

"I came here against Link's wishes, and without his knowledge," I continued, aware of Ashton's breath on my neck. "He… He believes our only chance for happiness is to run, to start a new life together… somewhere far from Hyrule."

Running off together was a fantasy both Link and I had entertained over the years, but always with some sense of jest. Neither of us would ever abandon Hyrule, not even for each other. We both answered to a higher calling, a duty beyond personal fulfillment.

"Running is not an option," I murmured. "My duty is here, with or without him."

I gasped when Ashton snatched my arm and forced my gaze to his.

"And what of this _undying love _you two supposedly share?" he sneered.

"Link has always known I would never choose him over Hyrule," I said firmly. "I will always love him, but he has made his own choice. The man I married is gone. The necromancer killed him in that prison."

Again my throat tightened, burning with tears I fought to suppress. First betrayal, then slander. How much more would I harm Link before the night finally ended?

"In that case I also killed him," Ashton replied, grinning with such satisfaction I clenched my fists to keep from striking him. "You expect me to believe you would abandon him for me?"

"I didn't come back for you," I said quietly, fixing him with a glare. "I came back for my people."

"But you are willing to stand at my side," he reminded me, "be my wife, bear my children… Are you not?"

I hesitated, unsure how to answer without appearing so transparent.

"I think you're up to something," he growled, regaining his previously suspicious tone. "You would try to _fix_ him before you ever came to me."

"Don't you think I've tried?" I exclaimed. "He is too far gone. We've lost too much. He doesn't want this life anymore!"

"Then bring him to me, show him the choice you've made!"

"No!" I tore my arm from his grasp and backed away. "I will stay with you, but I will never help you hurt him. He's suffered enough! You've _won_, Ashton; don't you see that?"

He watched me with a guarded expression. I could see his defenses slowly wearing off, but my performance needed a convincing finish. If I failed to persuade him, I would lose all the control I had gained.

"Please, Ashton," I said softly, my shoulders sagging with defeat, "all I want is to end this war. I've lost everything… everything but my crown, and only you can restore that to me. What can I do to convince you?"

His face softened with intrigue, and a dark smile slowly twisted his features, making my skin crawl. I knew my final test had come.

"Show me your intentions are sincere," he murmured, his voice falling provocatively low. "_Persuade_ me…"

His eyes bore into mine, and I knew exactly what he wanted. The very idea sickened me, but I knew I had played him into my hands. Victory lay only a kiss away… and so, reluctantly, I advanced.

I placed my hands on his chest, sliding them up along his shoulders and down before slowing to a stop at his lower abdomen. He snatched my arms, and I looked up to see lust already clouding his gaze.

"You'll have to do better than that," he hissed. "Touch me as you've touched him."

I swallowed, knowing I had mere seconds before his wanton hands discovered my secret. So I leaned in closer, angling my head and softly kissing his lips. I feigned submission, pretending fate had beaten the fight out of me. Hungrily he took advantage, grasping the back of my neck and smothering me with wet, open-mouthed kisses. I kept my lips firmly pressed together, protecting myself from him as well as the toxin. He growled impatiently, his rough hands tearing off my cloak and groping at my waist—

Then he stopped cold, his hands jerking away as though I'd caught fire. His eyes met mine, wide with rage as he struggled to catch his breath.

"You…" he stammered. "You're…"

I held his gaze, wiling him to see the defiance blazing beneath my calm exterior. My hands moved to protect Shayne, but Ashton had ceased to be a threat. Within seconds the toxin sent him to his knees, forcing a gasp from his lips. His frantic hands clutched at my tunic and slid down my legs until he collapsed at my feet.

I shoved him away with my boot, wiping my mouth with disgust. Unwilling to waste another moment, I then rushed past him into the adjoining bedroom—

And there it was. Just as I remembered.

I spied its slim, dark shape, barely visible within its enchanted golden case. It seemed to glow in the lamplight, beckoning me closer. As I approached I sensed layers of magical protection surrounding the case, layers I had failed to break through when I first tried to destroy it.

_I will not fail this time._

I stood there a moment, struggling to think of a way to remove the staff from its case. My eyes settled on the tiny keyhole—

When I heard the door open back in the adjoining room.

My hand flew to the knife at my wrist, ready to attack my intruder as I cautiously moved to the doorway.

"Please, my Lord, restrain yourself! The court cannot see evidence of this!"

It was Vasilis. He stood with his back against the entrance doors, his arms spread as though he had closed them quickly. I lowered my hands, realizing he was covering for me.

"Well," he muttered, stepping away from the doors to inspect Ashton's unmoving form. "…I see you were successful."

"Not yet," I replied. "We need to remove the staff from its case. "Do you have any idea where he keeps the key?"

"Of course," Vasilis said dryly. "The man never parts with it."

I watched him kneel down beside Ashton and unhook a silver chain from around his neck. Slipping the key off the chain, he then tossed it to me. I caught it and returned to the golden case, fitting the key into the lock and turning it. Slowly I opened the tall narrow doors, trembling with anticipation.

_I've done it. He will never find it. He will never use it again… _

Anxiously I reached for the weapon, but the moment my fingers brushed its rough wooden surface a terrible chill swept through me, accompanied by a harsh, bodiless whisper in my ears. I jerked my hand back and stepped away, pressing a hand to my pounding heart.

I had not felt such evil since the Imprisoning War.

"What's wrong?" Vasilis spoke behind me. "Are you all right?"

I swallowed, struggling to regain my voice.

"I'm… fine," I stammered. "But this staff… its aura is dangerously strong. Maybe you should be the one to—"

I turned to see a flash of gold before everything went black.

**xxxxxxx**

Vasilis caught her limp body, the golden statuette still grasped in his hand. Placing it aside, he carefully dragged her back into the sitting room and lay her down near Ashton. Then he removed his heavy dark robe and cast it aside, his movements less hindered by the red tunic he wore underneath. He rushed back into the bedroom and paused before the golden case, where the staff still stood within his reach. Already he could sense its aura, even before he had touched it.

_What kind of man would rely on such evil…?_

He reached for it, ignoring the fear which slowed his hand—then released a startled gasp the moment he touched it. A sudden, unnaturally cold sensation made him retract his hand, and nervously he glanced about the room as strange whispers filled his ears. But they soon faded, and he felt no pain, so again he reached for the staff.

The bodiless whispers grew louder, beckoning the darkness within him. Vasilis clenched his teeth as he raced back into the sitting room, the staff tightly clutched in his hand. He headed straight for the fireplace and slipped the staff inside, letting it stand against the chimney's interior, out of sight. He knew it would not burn, but he only meant to hide it there, until it could finally be destroyed.

Giving himself a moment to recover from his contact with the staff, Vasilis then pulled on his robe and swept his arm across the mantel, sending vases and other precious items crashing down against the stone tiles.

"Guards!" he shouted.

Instantly they responded, bursting through the doors with spears held ready.

"Stop, stop!" Vasilis shouted, raising his arms. "Lower your spears; I have the situation under control."

"Lord Ashton!" one of the guards cried, rushing to the fallen king's side.

"He's alive," Vasilis assured them. "The queen used some kind of spell to knock him unconscious. I managed to strike her while she was distracted."

The nearest guard looked at him suspiciously. "Why didn't she attack you?"

"She thought I would help her betray Lord Ashton," Vasilis scoffed. "Now bring him to his bed, and call the medic—quickly!"

"What of the queen?"

"Take her to the dungeons. She will answer for this when Lord Ashton wakes."

They did as told, carefully lifting Ashton by his arms and legs and carrying him into the bedroom. Once they had laid him in his bed, they returned to roughly hoist the queen up off the floor.

"Gently!" Vasilis snapped, seeing the poorly masked surprise on their faces. The queen no longer had her cloak to disguise her condition, and it was noticeable. "She is still Lord Ashton's bride, and we will treat her as such until he says otherwise."

The guards knew how particular Ashton was about the queen. Thus they obeyed without question, but their resentful scowls remained.

Vasilis waited in Ashton's chambers until the Vandelian medic had arrived, flanked by a new set of guards. Impatiently he answered the physician's questions, expanding upon the lie he had presented to the guards earlier. Finally he excused himself, struggling to hide his anxiousness as he left the king's chambers.

"Alert me the moment Lord Ashton wakes," he addressed the guards in the corridor.

"Of course, minister."

He then headed toward the main stairway, moving at a brisk pace once the guards had vanished from sight. From there he descended the stairs, moving toward the third floor. There he proceeded to his study, closing and locking the door behind him. He then moved to his desk, opening a drawer and reaching for a smooth black stone which lay inside. Releasing a slow, shaky breath, Vasilis squeezed the stone and whispered against its polished surface.

_"Telah kharem…" _

The familiar but horrid sensation of being torn apart and recreated in another location consumed him. Fortunately he felt himself become whole again just seconds later and released a heavy sigh of relief. The nauseating effects of teleportation lingered, however, and gladly he sank down onto one knee.

"Master," he spoke into the surrounding darkness. Only the weak, violet glow of a larger orb aided his vision, but it barely illuminated the small table it stood upon. The minister's voice carried through the mysterious chamber, and nervously he glanced about, seeking the dark figure he knew lurked in the shadows.

"I do not recall summoning you, Vasilis."

A darker voice rose from the void, seeming to come from all directions. Vasilis flinched at the venomous tone.

"Please forgive my intrusion, Master, but there has been a development."

"And does it involve the prince?"

Vasilis swallowed, wetting his dry throat.

"Indirectly, Master. It concerns the queen. She has returned to the castle."

"Ahh!" Vasilis jumped as the man's sinister delight filled the chamber. "Did she come alone?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then what of the prince?"

_Former prince._ Vasilis bit back the correction.

"She would not say."

"It matters not," the necromancer murmured. "He will come."

Vasilis took a deep breath, debating his next words.

"There's something else," he spoke. "She is… with child."

Another short laugh echoed through the darkness.

"Is she now…? How very interesting. All the more reason for him to pursue her."

His cloaked form suddenly appeared in the violet light, as though he had materialized from the darkness. Startled, Vasilis lost his balance, catching himself with a hand on the cold floor.

"Get up, you fool," the man growled. "Where is the queen now?"

The old minister struggled to obey quickly. "In the dungeons, Master."

"You will keep her there until further notice." Slowly the necromancer extended his hand, and in his gloved palm lay a round, pale object. "And when the prince arrives, you will give him this. He will know what to do with it."

Vasilis took it, recognizing it as the queen's ocarina, a precious heirloom of the royal family. _How did he come by this…?_

"How will the prince know to come?" he inquired with some reluctance. "She left without his knowledge."

"He will know," the necromancer murmured. "And when he arrives, you will tell him to bring me the Sword, or the queen—and his child—will die."

Vasilis looked up, his eyes wide with shock.

"Master, please…" he stammered, "we never—Hyrule will fall to ruin if the queen dies—"

"Then you would be wise to see my orders fulfilled."

Vasilis fell silent, struggling to keep the panic off his face.

"As for the king," the necromancer continued, vanishing back into the shadows. "Have him bring the queen to me. The prince should follow. You will see to that."

"The king is currently unconscious—the queen is responsible."

"Then wake him! I will not be kept waiting."

The wrath in his voice sent Vasilis back onto his knees, and he pressed a hand to his pounding heart.

"Yes, master… As you wish."

Quickly he grabbed his portal stone and whispered the spell, feeling his body fade and reform yet again. Opening his eyes, he released a shaky breath as the familiar sight of his study came into focus. Unwilling to waste another moment of time, the minister then slipped both the ocarina and the portal stone into his pockets and moved for the door.

Walking the dark, silent corridor, he could not help but fear the situation had begun to spiral out of control. The necromancer had never threatened to harm the queen before, and this sudden change worried Vasilis. Without her, Hyrule had little hope of recovering from the disaster Ashton had created.

_She will live. Once I hand over the general, she will go free, and this nightmare will end._

But before he lured the man to his demise, Vasilis felt he needed some answers. The necromancer's true intentions had so far remained a mystery, and Vasilis dared not question him.

And so he headed directly for the dungeons, seeking the one person he knew could explain the necromancer's obsessive interest in the former prince.

**xxxxxxx**

I woke to the strong odor of smelling salts, startled to find myself in a dark, grungy prison cell—the same cell Ashton had sentenced me to all those months ago.

"Your Majesty," a familiar voice spoke.

"Vasilis," I hissed, anger jolting his darkened image into focus. "Or should I say _traitor_?"

"Your Majesty, please, I can explain—"

I tried to stand, only to find myself chained to the wall.

"Chains?" I exclaimed, aware of the throbbing pain I assumed Vasilis had dealt to the back of my head. "How dare you? You swore to—"

He lunged forward to clap a hand over my mouth.

"Please, your Majesty!" he whispered harshly. "The guards will hear!"

I glared at him but reluctantly fell silent, and slowly he removed his hand from my mouth.

"I had no choice," he muttered. "The Vandelians would have suspected me of treason. This is the only way I can protect you."

"_This_ is protection?" I hissed. "I won't listen to another word of this. Release me!"

Slowly he rose to his feet and stepped away so a shadow fell across his features.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You must!" I exclaimed, rattling my chains. "I order you to release me!"

He sighed but made no move to obey.

"Tell me," he said quietly, "why does the necromancer have such an interest in your ex-husband?"

I ceased my struggles and lifted my gaze, casting him a suspicious glare.

"So," I scoffed, "Ashton told you about his dark ally?"

Vasilis ignored the question. "There is no use in protecting him, your Majesty. The necromancer knows you're here."

An icy horror closed around my heart, and I stared at him with widened eyes.

"_What?_" I breathed, barely managing a whisper.

Then realization stuck, and my rage grew so fierce I could barely form words.

"You—you're in _league_ with him!" I cried. "You traitorous _bastard!_"

"I am no traitor," the minister replied calmly. "We had a common goal, and so we helped each other. But soon I will sever those ties."

"Common goal?" I hissed, hearing my breath shudder. "And what is that?"

The minister fell silent a moment, his lips pursed.

"…It's not you he wants."

"It's Link he wants," I choked, tears wetting my face. "And you're letting him use me as bait!"

"Your ex-husband is of no value to me."

A cold, sickening weight dropped in my chest, and I bowed my head to suppress a sudden wave of nausea. My mind struggled to process logical thought in the grip of panic.

"I swore to protect you, and I will," Vasilis' voice droned on, sounding strangely far away, "...but I see no reason to help him."

_No, no, gods no, please…_

"Please," I whispered, lifting my desperate gaze to his. "Please, you cannot do this… You don't know who Link is!"

Vasilis furrowed his brow. "I know exactly who he is."

"Listen to me! The Scriptures tell of a man blessed by the gods, a man of humble origins, born with great power…" My voice shook as more tears fell. "…Destined to wield the Master Sword…"

"Don't tell me," Vasilis spoke, laughter in his voice. "You expect me to believe that commoner is the Hero of Legend?"

"_Think_, Vasilis," I snapped, my voice regaining some strength. "Did you ever stop to consider _why_ the necromancer has such a strong interest in him? Why he wants him alive? He plans to perform a terrible ritual—one that will resurrect someone far more dangerous than you can imagine. If he succeeds there will be nothing left, nothing but darkness and death!"

_And Shayne… _I couldn't bear the thought him entering such a nightmarish world. Shayne was Link's son, but he was not his successor. He could not wield the Master Sword. Only the chosen Hero could do that, and I knew decades, perhaps even centuries would pass before his true successor appeared.

_And if the Master Sword shatters…_

Vasilis stood in silence for a long moment, considering my words. I waited, my heart pounding in my throat.

"Please," I whispered. "You must believe me…"

He sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small object. I studied it with narrowed eyes, trying to identify it in the darkness. It was light in color, round in shape…

Fear swept through me the instant I recognized it.

_The Ocarina of Time._

"Where did you get that?" I breathed, meeting his gaze with widened eyes. "Return it to me—now!"

"The necromancer has instructed me to give this to your former husband."

"No! You can't!" Desperately I threw myself forward, letting the shackles cut into my wrists. "Please, I beg of you!"

"Why?" he demanded. "Why is it so important?"

"He… Link will use it to draw the Sword… You don't know what you're doing!"

Vasilis hesitated, giving me a strange look.

"Maybe not," he said, slipping the Ocarina back into his pocket. "But you're not making any sense, and I've heard enough."

He then turned for the cell door and grasped the knob.

"No, wait!" I cried, struggling against my chains. "Please!"

He paused in the doorway, turning to face me.

"All that matters is your survival," he said. "And that of your child. Even the general knows that."

With that he left, slamming the door shut behind him. Its metallic _clang_ echoed through the dungeons and faded into silence.

I sat there, staring at the door with wide, unseeing eyes. Silent tears left dark streaks along my face, but otherwise I sat paralyzed with terror. Something deep within me trembled, threatening to shatter and send me to pieces.

It was over. Soon Link would come for me, and the horrors of my visions would be realized. Link would succumb to the Echo, and all would be lost.

_You did this_, my inner voice hissed. _You knew what this would cause._

_You've killed him._


	46. Chapter XLVI

AN: Wow, didn't think I'd be able to post this tonight, but I made it! :D This chapter is unique because neither of the two scenes is written from Zelda's PoV. The first is from Ashton's and the second from Vasilis'. But the entire next chapter will be from Zelda's PoV, and probably every chapter until the end. I hope you enjoy it! :)

Thank you for your kind reviews! =^-^= Speaking of which, this happens to be the first totally new chapter posted - meaning it's not replacing an old chapter. So if you couldn't review a chapter before because of a previous review, you can now! ;)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XLVI

"...Your Majesty… hear me…?"

Ashton stirred, vaguely aware of a man's voice droning beyond the heavy fog which clouded his mind.

"…Lord Ashton?"

Slowly he opened his eyes, staring up at the familiar ceiling of his bedchamber. Then he turned his head, frowning when he saw the grim face of Vasilis Durithan.

"You," he growled, sitting up. Immediately the room swayed, forcing him back down against his pillows.

"What's happened to me?" he demanded, glaring up at the minister. "Where is Zelda?"

"In the dungeons," Vasilis replied in his usual dry tone. "The medic tells me she poisoned you."

"_Poisoned me?"_

"Nothing lethal, just enough to put you out. The medic gave you an antidote."

"But how could she have…?" Ashton trailed off, struggling to remember. His conversation with Zelda had ended with her yielding herself to him. After months of maddening uncertainty surrounding her absence, he had _finally_ tasted her lips again, _finally _run his hands along her perfect body…

_No._

She was far from perfect—not since _he _ruined her. Ashton had felt the swell of her belly, the unborn life she so dramatically claimed to have lost.

"That _bitch_," he muttered, trying to sit up again and succeeding. "She has deceived me for the last time."

He felt for the key around his neck, feeling his mind clear when his fingers did not find it.

"My staff—!" He rose from the bed, stumbling as he lunged toward his golden case.

It was empty.

"Your staff is gone," Vasilis calmly spoke behind him. "She destroyed it."

Slowly Ashton turned toward him, a dangerous glint in his eye. "...What did you just say?"

"The staff is gone," the minister repeated, unfazed by the young king's wrath. "How she managed it, I don't know."

Ashton turned to face him, clenching his fists as he struggled to temper his rage. "And you did nothing to _stop_ her…?"

"It was already done by the time I interfered. Had I not knocked her unconscious, she might have gotten away with it. If you would like a replacement, I suggest you follow the mystic's newest orders I have for you."

The king studied him with narrowed eyes. The only thing Ashton feared more than the necromancer's power was losing Hyrule's throne to Zelda. Without the staff, without his undead army, that fear could become a reality.

Much as he hated it, Ashton had no choice but to obey.

"What does he want now?" he growled.

"You are to bring the queen to his chamber—_unharmed_."

Ashton stared, unable to believe his ears.

"He wants _her_ now?"

"I do not question his orders, and neither should you," Vasilis snapped. "And unless you want to lose everything, I suggest you silence your inquiries and head for the dungeons."

Ashton glared at him, resisting the urge to strike the old man.

"You speak to me like that again," he snarled, "and I'll have you thrown in the very cell she occupies."

The minister crossed his arms, watching as the king moved to his dresser and retrieved a black stone identical to the one in Vasilis' pocket. Ashton paused then, eyeing the minster with suspicion.

"And exactly what are your orders?" he demanded.

"I am to ensure the queen's former husband joins you."

"_Join_ us?" Ashton raised his brow as a slow grin spread across his lips. "So… she is the bait."

"Obviously."

The king's grin faded into a scowl. "Fine. But if that lunatic fails to finish him this time, I'll run him through myself."

With that he grabbed his sword off its holder near his bed and left the room, striding through the sitting room and out into the corridor. The medic fell in step behind him, voicing a stream of concerns. Ashton quickly dismissed him, aware of the guards still shadowing his every step. Their armor clanked as they hustled after their king—he moved quickly, despite the lingering effects of the poison.

Upon reaching the dungeons, the guards opened the thick metal door, letting him proceed into the dark corridor which separated the cells.

"Zelda… Zelda, can you hear me…?"

Ashton recognized the weak voice of Siena Bard, tavern wench and wife of the traitor, Clepharas Bard. He paused before her cell, knocking his sword against the bars with a loud _clang_.

"Silence," he hissed.

The emaciated excuse for a woman retreated to the back of her cell, glaring at him from the shadows. Then Ashton continued on toward the high security cell which contained his bride.

"Open it," he barked at the guard, who held the key ready.

The door swung open and Ashton stepped inside, grinning at the pathetic sight before him.

Zelda sat chained to the wall—dirty, disheveled, and weeping softly. Her sobs quieted as she lifted her head, squinting in the torchlight, and the sight of her face—streaked with make-up, tears, and blood from the cut he'd inflicted earlier—brought him a strong wave of satisfaction. The queen's grieved expression quickly darkened into a glare, but Ashton saw the fear behind her eyes.

"My, my, what a rare sight this is," he sneered. "The Jewel of Hyrule, reduced to a weeping prisoner. I quite like it, actually."

She held his gaze but said nothing, much to Ashton's annoyance.

"I have much in store for you," he said coldly. "You will pay for what you have done, but first we have an appointment elsewhere."

Her glare wavered. "What do you mean… an appointment?" Her voice came quiet and hoarse, most likely from crying.

Ashton smirked. "You will see soon enough."

He then turned to the guard, ordering him to release her from her chains. The guard started toward her, and desperately she backed away, struggling against her shackles.

"No!" she shrieked. "Don't touch me! Stay away!"

Ashton moved in as her shackles came free, grabbing her arm with one hand and clutching the portal stone with the other.

_"Telah kharem," _he muttered, ignoring her frantic screams.

The prison cell vanished as the magic stole them away, bringing them to an even darker chamber. A glowing violet orb provided very weak light, reacting to the portal stone still grasped in Ashton's hand.

Zelda collapsed onto the stone floor, unconscious. The teleportation had apparently taken too hard a toll, especially in her condition…

Ashton studied her a moment, still unable to completely suppress his desire for her. Perhaps it was the way her long golden hair framed her troubled face, or the way she lay sprawled before him, completely vulnerable…

But he would not touch her. Taking even the smallest advantage while she lay unconscious was beyond pathetic. He would have her soon enough. Once the peasant was dead—and once Zelda had been cleansed of his offspring—Ashton would finally claim her for his own.

_Then her true punishment will begin._

He looked up then, realizing the necromancer had yet to acknowledge him.

"Well, here she is," he called to the darkness, slightly unnerved by the silence. "I was told you would replace the staff she destroyed?"

No response.

"Show yourself!" Ashton called, annoyance coloring his tone. His own voice echoed back, but otherwise he heard nothing.

_He must not be here_, he concluded. _Well, I'm not leaving without my end of the bargain._

So, thoroughly irritated, the king settled onto the floor and crossed his legs, watching Zelda as he awaited the necromancer's return.

**xxxxxxx**

Anxiously Vasilis paced the Council Chamber, waiting for the guards to arrive with their prisoner—the former prince himself. A few lit torches provided some light in the large chamber, but outside the sky loomed moonless, starless, ominously dark as usual.

Vasilis had left Ashton's chambers not twenty minutes ago before an attendant came rushing down the corridor, eager to inform him of Link's sudden appearance. Somehow, after months of dodging Vandelian soldiers and leading Resistance forces, the man had apparently surrendered himself right outside Castletown's drawbridge. Vasilis knew he had come for the queen, just as the necromancer had said he would.

Yet despite the ease of his task, Vasilis could not shake his nagging uncertainty.

_"Please, you cannot do this…" _the queen's voice still rang in his ears._ "You don't know who Link is!"_

He could not completely dismiss her pleas. The terror in her eyes, the desperation in her frantic voice… Was it love alone that had driven her to such a state? Or could he really be who she claimed him to be?

Heavy footsteps sounded out in the corridor, and Vasilis jumped when someone pounded against the double doors.

"Enter," he called.

The doors opened and Captain Felix strode in, wearing a smug grin.

"We have him, Minister."

"Good," Vasilis clasped his hands behind his back. "Bring him in."

Two soldiers led the former prince through the doorway. Each grasped one of his arms, which had been chained behind his back. His ankles had been shackled as well.

All of this Vasilis observed in the back of his mind. For the moment he laid eyes upon the younger man, his guarded expression nearly slipped.

The man looked terrible. Beyond terrible.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes, making him look older, wearier, and he seemed thinner than Vasilis remembered. His clothes, a faded black cloak over a weathered tunic and loose trousers, suited the roguish reputation he had earned. Yet despite his ragged appearance and his obviously poor health, he stood straight and tall, refusing to show any sign of fatigue. And whatever weariness showed in the young man's face did not reach his eyes. His fierce, vibrant blue gaze met Vasilis' calm grey, sending an unbidden chill down the minister's spine.

_This is no prince_, he quickly told himself. _And he's certainly no Hero of Legend._

Realizing he had hesitated for too long, Vasilis cleared his throat to speak.

"Remove the shackles at his feet," he addressed the soldiers. "Then give me the key and wait outside."

Felix hesitated.

"But… Minister—"

"Do as I say," Vasilis cut him off sharply. "Now."

The captain pressed his lips together, clearly annoyed, but then nodded to his soldiers. Reluctantly they obeyed, removing Link's shackles and quickly backing away, as though expecting an immediate attack. But he remained still, his eyes locked on the minister.

Vasilis extended his hand toward Felix. "The keys."

Grudgingly the captain snatched them from a guard and placed them in his hand.

"Now leave us," Vasilis said, meeting Link's piercing gaze.

"As you wish, Minister," Felix said, emphasizing the title with distaste.

Vasilis ignored him, waiting as the Vandelians filed out and closed the doors behind them.

"Where is Zelda?" Link spoke, his low, coarse voice breaking the silence. "Is she safe? Has she been hurt?"

Vasilis began to pace the room, and upon closer inspection he noticed a dark mark marring the younger man's face. A black arterial line climbed up from beneath his collar, growing thinner until it faded near his ear.

_What is that…?_

"She is unharmed," he replied, "...for now. As things currently stand, I am your only chance of rescuing her from the mess she's caused. And I will require your full cooperation."

"What has she done?"

Vasilis caught a trace of fear in the younger man's voice.

"She attacked Ashton—poisoned him, in fact—and tried to do away with the staff. She succeeded in her mission, but of course it only landed her in the dungeons."

Link studied him a moment, registering his words, or perhaps looking for signs of deceit.

"Show me," he demanded. "Take me to her."

"You are in no position to be giving orders," Vasilis murmured, casting him a sidelong glance. "And unless you do as I say, she will suffer the consequences… as will the child."

Fear clouded Link's eyes, and for a moment he held the minister's gaze, as if to challenge him. Then slowly he bowed his head, drawing a deep, calming breath.

"…What must I do?" he asked quietly, wearily.

"First you will take this," Vasilis replied, drawing the ocarina from his pocket and showing it to Link.

The younger man lifted his head, his eyes widening once he saw the instrument.

"…I was told you would know what to do with it," the minister added.

"Ashton gave you this?" Link asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"My orders do not come from Ashton," Vasilis murmured, watching him closely.

Slowly Link looked up, meeting the minister's cold gaze. His face betrayed little emotion, but Vasilis recognized his controlled rage.

"So," he whispered, "you're his puppet too. Or perhaps his ally?"

Vasilis stared back at him, considering his response.

"Sometimes both, sometimes neither," he replied. "I am what I have to be. Those who play along stay in the game, since resistance clearly has its consequences…" he added, arching a brow.

A shadow passed over the younger man's face, but he ignored the insult.

"If I am to cooperate," he said, "I will need my hands free."

Vasilis nodded. "And so I will free them. But be warned—any attempt to harm me only further endangers the queen."

Link did not respond, and again his silence unnerved the minister.

"Turn around," he ordered him, pocketing the ocarina.

The younger man did as told, and nervously Vasilis fit the key into the lock on his shackles. Then he paused, unwilling to surrender his control over a potentially dangerous man.

"You must know I never meant for any harm to befall the queen," he murmured, "and I will do everything in my power to protect her and the child."

Again Link said nothing, and Vasilis forced himself to turn the key.

_Click._

Within seconds Link cast the shackles to the floor and spun around, snatching Vasilis by the throat. The minister cried out as his back slammed against the wall.

"I don't know how deep your treachery goes," Link hissed, "but you are meddling with things you know nothing about. And if your ignorance brings any harm to Zelda, or to our child, I swear I will kill you."

Then he released him, forcing Vasilis to clutch the wall as he gasped for air. After several labored breaths, he looked up to see Link standing by the nearest window, his forehead resting against one hand while the other grasped the ocarina. Vasilis blinked, realizing he had swiped it during his attack.

_Like a bloody pickpocket._

"If anything happens to the queen it will be on your hands," he said, briskly straightening his rumpled clothes. "I will lead you to her, but you must bring a certain sword with you. I assume you know what that means?"

He watched Link release another deep breath before lifting his head and turning away from the window. Despite the emotional weariness he had displayed there, not a trace of it remained on his solemn face.

"If there is a shred of honor left in you," he said, "you will meet me in the Temple of Time as soon as possible—_alone._"

Confusion lined the minister's face.

"_Meet_ you? And just where do you think you're going? You can't even leave this room without my help."

Link ignored him and brought the ocarina to his lips, closing his eyes as he began to play. Soft, somber notes echoed about the chamber, and Vasilis felt a gentle wave of energy radiate from the former prince.

"What are you…?"

He trailed off as a dim light enveloped Link, growing brighter with every note. Having completed the melody, Link opened his eyes and lowered the instrument, his blue eyes meeting the minister's grey.

"The Temple of Time, Vasilis."

And then, with a brighter flash of light, he was gone.

Vasilis stood there, staring at the place Link had been. The energy from the ocarina's magic quickly faded from the room, reminding Vasilis he had no means of teleporting away. How could he reach the Temple alone? He could not even leave the room without being interrogated once Felix realized their prisoner had escaped.

Before he could begin plotting a solution, the doors flew open and Felix strode in.

"Did I just hear music—?"

He stopped mid-sentence at seeing only Vasilis in the room.

"You fool!" Vasilis spoke before the captain could. "Did your guards forget to search their prisoner?"

"What are you talking about?" Felix snapped.

"You failed to confiscated a magical item—his means of escape! Once he had the information he needed he vanished!"

Felix stared at him, struggling to come up with some intelligent response.

"My guards found nothing on him," he growled. "Perhaps you helped him escape!"

"Don't be absurd," Vasilis snarled. "Few despise that man more than me. Now stop wasting time and search the grounds!"

Without waiting for Felix's response, Vasilis left the room and hurried down the corridor toward the throne room. He doubted he could leave the castle grounds without interference, but he had to try.

He had barely entered the throne room, however, when the grand entrance doors were thrown open and a Vandelian soldier came running inside.

"We're under attack!" he shouted, his panic echoing about the chamber. "The Resistance—they've destroyed the drawbridge—they have fighters heading this way—an entire army!"

_An attack? _Vasilis could hardly believe his ears. _The queen, is she part of this…?_

It mattered not. He could not afford any interference. He had to reach the Temple of Time and carry out the necromancer's orders, no matter what.

The guards rushed about in a panic, shouting orders to gather every last member of Ashton's royal guard before the Resistance arrived. Vasilis forced himself to walk, letting his feet carry him toward the entrance doors. His exit went quite unnoticed amidst the flurry of preparation.

Outside he ran through the currently unguarded inner gates and hurried across the grounds, moving as quickly as his aged bones would allow. His heart pounded with every step, and he struggled to keep his breath, but he could not afford to be captured.

He slowed to a cautious walk as he approached a small cliff which overlooked the path to the main gates. What he saw beyond those gates made him drop flat against the ground.

An enormous Goron came flying down the road from Castletown, rolling toward the massive iron gates at maximum speed. Vasilis knew the impact would match that of a boulder hurtling down a steep mountainside, possibly enough to break through…

_CRASH!_

Vasilis covered his head as the Goron collided with the gates. A loud metallic bang echoed across the grounds, followed by the scattered shouting of Vandelian guards. Vasilis lifted his head to see the Goron had succeeded—the gate had been thrown wide open.

Another sound drew his attention back toward Castletown—the collected cries of countless, angry people. Before long a loud mob of Resistance fighters—Gorons included—came rushing toward the castle grounds, all bearing weapons and torches. They cheered when they saw their comrade had succeeded and ran through the gates like a hoard of wasps released from their hive.

Grateful for the heavy and concealing darkness of that cloudy night, Vasilis remained pressed to the ground, waiting for the stampede to pass and praying he would not be found. He waited a very long time; the flow of fighters seemed unending. Finally the mob tapered off, and Vasilis seized his chance. Carefully he climbed down off the cliff and hurried toward the unguarded gate, passing through it and running toward Castletown.

The town itself stood alive with panic. Countless lit windows spotted the darkness, and many had come outside to investigate. Cloaked figures on horseback tried to manage the situation, and Vasilis thought he heard a Gerudo woman urging someone to calm down. He ignored them, however, focusing only on his short trip to the Temple of Time. Fortunately it stood just outside the town square, allowing Vasilis to slip unseen through alleyways surrounding the market.

_Just a little farther._

He knew he had wasted a great amount of time waiting for his chance to leave the castle grounds, and he wanted to reach the Temple before Link did. Whatever the man intended to do, Vasilis wanted to see it.

Finally he reached the stairs leading up to the Temple and quickly ascended them, struggling to recognize the massive structure amidst such darkness. The noise of the Resistance attack seemed strangely distant, as though he had imagined it, but that did not stop him from rushing toward the Temple's tall double doors. Pushing one open, the minister stepped inside and quickly closed it behind him.

The Temple's interior stood so dark Vasilis strained to see his own hands. Within moments, however, the enchanted torches flared to life, illuminating the vast chamber. Relieved that he had arrived before Link, Vasilis proceeded over a raised platform—one bearing the symbol of light over a Triforce—and moved deeper into the Temple.

Tall, majestic pillars rose high above his head on either side, and the polished black and white tiles gleamed in the torchlight. At the very back of the Temple he spied the familiar wall carving which featured a large Triforce surrounded by thick lines representing rays of light. Below it stood the Temple's sacred centerpiece—the altar.

Its black stone created a stark contrast to the surrounding white walls, demanding the reverence of all who approached. A rich crimson rug lay before it, created by one of the most gifted weavers in Hyrule and blessed by the queen herself. Most people used it to kneel upon in prayer, but Vasilis preferred to stay on his feet that night.

He gazed down at the altar's polished surface, studying the neat inscriptions embedded in the stone.

"_The…Ocarina…" _he slowly read the Ancient Hylian, _"…of Time…"_

"_The Ocarina of Time opened the door."_

Vasilis jumped as Link's voice suddenly echoed through the Temple. Calmly he turned to see the man standing just a few feet away, on the raised platform near the entrance.

"_The Hero of Time, with the Master Sword, descended here," _he finished as he walked toward the minster. "That is how the inscription reads."

Vasilis blinked, then frowned.

"How did you get here?" he demanded. "Did anyone see you?"

Link eyed him a moment, then moved past him to stand before the altar. Vasilis watched with curiosity. _What is he doing…?_

"Everything returned to the way it had been," Link whispered, brushing his fingers over the inscription. "Everything except these words…"

"What are you talking about?" Vasilis asked, not bothering to hide his impatience. "What are we doing here?"

Link's shoulders dropped in a sigh before he turned to address the minister.

"There is no time for explanations," he told him. "Unless you mean to jeopardize Zelda's life, you will stop asking questions and stand aside."

Reluctantly Vasilis fell silent, watching the former prince with renewed hostility.

_Just who does he think he is…?_

Link turned back to the altar, releasing another deep breath before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a jewel—a large and stunning emerald delicately set in an organic gold piece. Vasilis' jaw nearly dropped. _The Kokiri Emerald! _Ashton had sought that exact jewel months ago… _So he had it all this time, did he?_

Suppressing another rush of questions, Vasilis crossed his arms and watched as Link pulled out two more precious jewels—the Goron's Ruby and the Zora's Sapphire—and placed them into three small niches embedded in the altar. How he had managed to obtain all three in such a short amount of time, Vasilis could not fathom. Obviously it had something to do with that ocarina. Even so, each jewel was believed to be sacred, and the leaders of the Kokiri, Goron, and Zoran tribes kept their relics well protected… Could they have simply handed them to Link?

_He has always maintained a healthy union with the other tribes of Hyrule… _Link's performance in that area had always impressed Vasilis, though he never cared to admit it.

_Friendly terms with the tribes of Hyrule will not satisfy the Alliance. And the gods would never allow a commoner to be coronated._

Vasilis' attention returned to the three jewels as they slowly rose into the air, suspended by some magical force. Link stepped back and brought the ocarina to his lips, playing another slow, solemn melody. Each note echoed about the Temple, filling the chamber walls with a power far stronger than the energy Link had summoned to teleport. This song carried an ancient, sacred aura, and Vasilis nearly shivered with awe as he listened.

Then suddenly, high up on the wall behind the altar, the Triforce emblem began to shine with such brilliant light Vasilis looked away to shield his eyes. A low rumble followed, but only once the light had faded could Vasilis turn to see the cause. What he saw left him stunned.

An open doorway.

The walls had seemingly vanished, leaving a wide archway in their place, one which led into another large chamber…

Vasilis moved to see what lay ahead, but Link stopped him with a hand.

"Stay here," he spoke over his shoulder.

The minister pursed his lips but obeyed, watching as Link pocketed the ocarina and ascended the few steps rising alongside the altar. He entered the adjoining chamber in a slow, formal manner, his dark cloak rippling about his ankles. The temple fell silent as a tomb, broken only by the sound of Link's boots against the stone floor.

The chamber stood dark and empty, save a single ray of moonlight which shone down onto… Vasilis crept up the steps and peered through the doorway for a better look. Something stood on a raised platform, gleaming in the moonlight.

_A sword?_

Eagerly he watched as Link approached it, ascending several more steps onto a small platform. Moonlight spilled across his head and shoulders, bathing him in silvery light. It seemed the clouds had suddenly parted, just to illuminate the heart of that chamber.

_Is this what the necromancer meant? What the queen meant?_

_Could this be… the Master Sword?_

Vasilis' thoughts blurred into a haze of disbelief as he brought his attention back to Link. Slowly the man sank to his knees and bowed his head, deep in prayer. He gave such a humble display of reverence, and Vasilis felt some hostility toward the man fade. He longed to enter the chamber for a closer look, but something held him back. Approaching Link and the mysterious sword felt somehow forbidden.

Finally Link rose to his feet, blocking the sword as he stood before it. Vasilis tensed, waiting for the moment of truth…

Then he heard it—the smooth metallic _shing_ of a sword being drawn.

Slowly Link drew the blade from its pedestal and raised it high above his head. Its magnificent steel shone like a beacon, filling the chamber with a brilliant white light.

Vasilis nearly forgot to breathe. Never had he witnessed something so surreal.

The light faded to a faint blue glow as Link lowered the sword. For a moment he stood there, grasping the hilt with his left hand and supporting the blade with his right before he brought his hands to his sides. Firmly grasping the weapon in his left hand, he then turned and descended the stairs surrounding the pedestal. Vasilis caught a clear glimpse of the sword, and the sight made his heart skip a beat.

_Glowing blade, royal blue hilt, winged cross-guard…_

This was the sword described in the ancient Scriptures.

_The Blade of Evil's Bane… The Master Sword._

Vasilis took a shaky step back, unable to believe his eyes. Only one man could wield that sword…

_It's true… It's all true…_

Everyone knew the legends about the Chosen Hero, but to most they were but fairy tales; only children truly believed them. Yet Vasilis could not deny what he saw with his own eyes, what he looked upon now…

He felt his knees hit the floor, overwhelmed by his sudden revelation.

This man… whom he had taught himself to hate… whom he had arranged to be framed, bartered, tortured, even _killed_…

This man was the Hero of Legend.

Vasilis struggled to address him, but the words didn't come. What could he possibly say to this man, the Chosen Hero, whom he had wronged for so many years?

Link paused before the gaping minister, who remained frozen on his knees. Vasilis glanced at the sacred Sword, seeing his stunned reflection in its flawless blade.

"I have what the necromancer wants," Link said, a note of bitterness in his voice. "Now bring me to Zelda."

Vasilis' mouth moved, but he couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence. A terrible, ominous fear had seized him, as though he could feel the condemning gaze of goddesses themselves.

"This changes nothing," the Hero added, seeing the minister's shaken demeanor. "Not for me. It's too late to undo your crimes, Vasilis. There's no time for second thoughts."

Clumsily the minister climbed to his feet, meeting Link's clear, solemn gaze. Reaching into his pocket, he then pulled out the portal stone and offered it to Link.

"I… I need only chant a simple spell," he murmured, "and I can teleport both of us to the queen's location."

He offered Link his arm, but the Hero hesitated.

"Before we go," he said quietly, "there is something you can do."

Vasilis straightened, anxious to be of help, to begin his repentance.

"Tell me," he whispered.

Link studied him, his face illuminated by the Master Sword's glow. Vasilis saw determination in those eyes, even despite the dire fate that awaited him.

"You must find Impa," he said, urgency lacing his tone, "and give her this." He opened his right hand, which held the ocarina. "She should be among the Resistance fighters. When you give her this, tell her to gather the others and follow after me."

Vasilis took the instrument, glancing at Link with uncertainty. "Gather the others?"

"She will know what it means. You must _find her_, Vasilis. It may be the difference between victory and defeat."

The minister closed his mouth, silencing his questions. He knew Link referred to his poor health, to whatever curse the necromancer had cast upon him. He was the Chosen Hero, but even he could not escape the limitations of mortality.

"I will find her," Vasilis replied, meaning it like a promise.

Link nodded. "Make sure you teleport away instantly, no matter what awaits us."

"I will."

Vasilis then squeezed the portal stone while the Hero grasped his arm.

_"Telah kharem…"_


	47. Chapter XLVII

AN: Things have been pretty rough for me lately, but working on Fortitude has helped keep my mind off things, so I managed to finish this chapter. I really hope it lives up to everyone's expectations. This is one of the few chapters I intentionally ended with a real cliffhanger, so I'll get right to work on the next one.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fortitude**

Chapter XLVII

I woke to silence and darkness, too disoriented to recall how I had gotten there. Slowly I sat up, groaning as my head gave a painful throb. Every move brought a wave of nausea, and I clutched my stomach as I fought the urge to retch.

As my mind began to clear, my thoughts quickly turned to my son. I forgot my discomfort and tried to calm myself, seeking his little presence within me. Immediately I sensed his distress, an echo of my own.

_It's all right, _I soothed, relieved to feel his anxiety fade. _I'll keep you safe..._

"…Sleep well, dearest?"

My eyes flew open to find Ashton sitting just a few steps away, vaguely illuminated in the weak violet light. He observed me with a cold expression, and hurriedly I backed away, my hand still pressed to my abdomen.

"What is this place?" I snapped, hearing the quiver in my voice.

He grinned, pleased to see me unsettled.

"Not very cozy, is it? I do hope the lighting improves, at least. I want to see the life leave that bastard's eyes when he finally dies here."

His icy tone sent a chill down my spine, but I fought to appear composed, even as my heart sank into a pit of fear.

"Ashton, you don't know what you're doing," I said, managing to keep my voice steady. "The necromancer is using you. Once your usefulness is spent, he will discard you, just as he's trying to do with Link."

Ashton merely shook his head, an amused smile curving his lips.

"On the contrary, dearest," he said. "You see, the mystic and I struck a deal months ago. I delivered your peasant to him alive, and he gave me the power to rule your kingdom. It all went according to plan until he let the bastard escape. But that will be remedied soon enough."

He trailed his fingers down a long, narrow item resting against his shoulder. _A sword_, I realized, suppressing another flutter of fear.

"And you never questioned his motives?" I demanded. "You never thought it strange that this necromancer would suddenly appear and offer you such power?"

Ashton shrugged. "I saw no reason to question him."

"Of course not," I growled. "You were too blinded by greed to bother with caution or common sense."

"You're the one who lacks common sense," he retorted. "You're the prisoner here, not me. I have an invincible army at my disposal, and with it I have reclaimed everything that was taken from me—including you. I even had the pleasure of witnessing your beloved's torture."

Rage flared within me, but I ignored him and climbed to my feet, determined to find a way out of the seemingly empty chamber. Deep down I knew it was hopeless, that I would never reach Link in time, but trying kept me from succumbing to despair.

"…I watched him struggle against his chains, screaming himself hoarse…" Satisfaction colored Ashton's sinister tone. "…It was music to my ears."

"I know what Link endured in that prison," I snapped, moving to examine the glowing orb. "I also know it wasn't enough to break him."

Ashton scoffed. "Only because his precious magic saved him."

"Don't pretend to know the nature of Link's Gift. Magic doesn't conjure itself from nothing. Link survived because the magic responded to his own inner strength, his unbreakable spirit—something you couldn't begin to understand."

I lifted my eyes then, meeting his hostile gaze over the orb.

"Even your staff drew its power from something," I told him, "most likely from your own life force. I suspect you've begun to feel the consequences of tampering with dark magic. Nightmares, insomnia, illness… You've likely shortened your own lifespan."

Ashton's silence betrayed his unease, but I turned my attention back to the orb. I figured it held the power to teleport, since I remembered a flash of violet light before I lost consciousness. Tentatively I touched it, drawing back with a gasp as a frigid tremor coursed through my body.

_More dark magic._

"Don't bother trying to escape," Ashton said. "I brought you here, and only I can return you. But don't worry; you won't be parted from your beloved much longer."

I turned to him then, meeting his taunting gaze.

"You think this is all for the necromancer's own amusement, don't you?" I demanded. "It isn't that simple. If you're fortunate enough to leave this place alive, it will not be at his will. You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"Spare me any more of your performances," he murmured, waving a dismissive hand. "We're not going anywhere."

"Ashton, listen to me!" I moved away from the orb, dropping to my knees so my gaze came level with his. "If we don't leave now, if I don't stop Link from coming here, the necromancer will use him to unleash—"

I broke off when the orb suddenly grew brighter. I tensed and jumped to my feet, turning to see a new figure materialize just a few paces away. With a chilling wave of fear I recognized his tall, cloaked form.

_The necromancer._

Shakily I backed away from him, wanting to keep a safe distance—for Shayne's sake more than mine. The orb's dim glow illuminated a flash of teeth beneath his hood, and the sight triggered images from my visions—a black dagger slicing across Link's heart, the wound sealing with a black scar…

"Queen Zelda," he spoke in his familiar low voice. "We meet again at last."

He then raised his arm and clenched his gloved fist, showing me the back of his hand…

_The Triforce of Power._

It shone through his glove, the crowning triangle brightest of the three. My own Triforce symbol began to glow, warming my hand as it responded to its companion. I stared down at it, my eyes wide with terror.

_But how could he have acquired what Ganondorf would never relinquish? _

Unlike The Triforce pieces of Wisdom and Courage, Power had no chosen Keeper. Without the temperance of Wisdom and Courage, Power brought nothing but corruption and greed. Thus the piece had been denied a Keeper. Whoever sought the complete Triforce for personal gain, as Ganondorf had, acquired the one piece that reflected their greed while the other two fled to rest within the souls of their chosen Keepers.

Should someone try to rob Link or me of our pieces, the relics would take physical form and split into eight pieces. Those pieces would remain scattered about the land, waiting for the next Keeper to collect them. But the Triforce of Power did not split into pieces. Anyone could steal it, and anyone could use it, for good or ill.

_But Ganondorf never escaped the Evil Realm… How could this man have taken it?_

I noticed then that the Triforce emblem on his hand was incomplete. A small section of Power remained dark, as though he failed to obtain all of it.

_Unless… a portion was _given_ to him…?_

"You needn't look so frightened, your Majesty," the necromancer said. "I have no desire to kill you. You've been a great help to me, coming here at your own will."

He gave a dark, quiet laugh, but I failed to find a response. Everything that mattered to me, everything I had tried so hard to protect, had begun to unravel. The precious threads had already come loose—guided by my own shortsighted hand.

And I could do nothing to stop it.

_I've done it again. Hyrule will suffer—_Link_ will suffer—because of my mistake… _

"She came to _me_," Ashton spoke up, having climbed to his feet and stepped forward. "And I brought her to you. I fulfilled my end of the deal, so I'll have my replacement now."

The necromancer turned to him, as though just registering his presence. "You are here only because I summoned you. It seems I have a use for you after all."

Ashton frowned. "The only reason I stepped foot here is because…" He trailed off as anger suddenly darkened his features. "Are you saying that old bastard lied to me?"

"He followed my orders. And unless you wish to die, you will show the same cooperation."

Ashton hesitated, then reached into his pocket, pulling out the dark portal stone. Before he could voice the teleportation spell, however, the stone vanished with a burst of violet smoke, making Ashton cough as he stumbled back.

"I could take your life just as easily," the necromancer warned. "You will leave this chamber when I permit it."

Ashton studied him with a hateful glare but grudgingly fell silent.

"You speak with such authority," I said, relieved to hear no tremor in my voice, "yet you cloak yourself in shadow, hiding your face like a coward. I think it's time you identified yourself—and explained your interest in Link."

The necromancer turned his hooded face back to me, and I felt suddenly afraid to know the truth. To hear my fears be realized.

"I think you already know my intentions," he murmured, a hint of pleasure in his tone. "As for my face, I conceal myself only so I may better serve my master in secret. There was a time when my appearance shamed me, but that was long ago. And now that the pieces are falling into place, I no longer have reason for such secrecy. I am proud to reveal my identity."

Slowly he lifted his hands, grasping his hood and lifting it off his head. Shock tore through me as the material fell away, exposing the face beneath.

Dark, arterial lines marked his features like an elaborate tattoo, curling around his eyes and over his forehead before curving out of sight atop his smooth, hairless head. For a moment I could only stare at him, unable to believe my eyes. The very same lines had marked Link's face, shortly before the Sages cleansed them away…

"…You're an Echo," I whispered.

"Yes," he replied with a dark smile. "An Echo of the greatest king the world has ever known."

I waited for him to explain, unable to find a response. Ashton too, remained silent.

"When I was a child," the necromancer continued, lifting his hands to remove his gloves, "I couldn't imagine the luxuries you've known throughout your rich, aristocratic lives. Every day I wandered the streets, homeless, hungry, wretched."

He cast the gloves aside, and in the light I saw more black tendrils marring his hands.

"I was an unwanted orphan, cursed and hated by all who looked upon me, all because of what I am. What I was born from."

He drew closer, allowing me to see his face more clearly. Beneath his dark markings I saw a relatively smooth face—older than Ashton but not a day over forty. His ears were pointed like mine, yet his complexion was too dark to be Hylian. His most striking feature, however, were his mismatched eyes. The left was dark and seemingly colorless, but the right shone a bright and startling red.

_A hybrid… So he is at least part Sheikah._

"This," he hissed, "is the face of a monster. A demon. My father was a ruthless Tar Alemian, my mother a daughter of Sheikan witches. I carry no memory of them. My father likely abandoned my mother, and she abandoned me. Raised in a pathetic excuse for an orphanage, I knew nothing but abuse until I fled and survived on the streets. I had no purpose, no value, not even a name."

He looked up then, his eyes bright with wonder.

"One day, my aimless wandering brought me to a Gerudo camp on the outskirts of the city. Intrigued by my Sheikan blood, the women captured me and brought me to Hyrule, to the Gerudo Fortress. There they presented me to their king, the great Lord Ganondorf."

I closed my eyes and turned away. _So it's true._ This man was a servant of Ganondorf.

_No. He is an Echo of Ganondorf, something far more dangerous._

"He did not send me away," the necromancer continued. "He did not strike me, spit at me, or curse me, as so many others had done. He, a great and magnificent king, accepted _me_, an orphan hybrid without a drop of Gerudo blood, as his apprentice. He valued the Gift I had inherited from my mother. He taught me to use it, to do things he himself could not yet do…"

He paused then, and I saw a flicker of pain cross his marred features.

"After I had passed his every expectation, my master bestowed upon me the greatest honor I could ever receive… He performed the _Khaverte d' Refero_ and bonded himself to me."

I stared at him, disturbed by the adoration in his eyes. A part of me pitied the boy he had been, but I knew that child had died the day Ganondorf cursed him with the Black Echo. The necromancer's soul had been trapped deep within him, leaving him to exist only as a shadow of the Gerudo king—an evil, dangerous shell I could only despise.

"Ganondorf used you," I said solemnly. "The _Khaverte d' Refero_ is a terrible and destructive curse. He robbed you of your free will and stifled your very soul."

"_Robbed_ me?" the necromancer's laughter grated against my ears. "It was his _gift_ to me. That ritual brought us closer than a father can be to his own son!"

"Then why do the same to Link?" I demanded. "You feel nothing but hatred for him."

The necromancer's face darkened. "Yes," he growled. "I do hate him. As I hate you and your Sages."

He turned away then, trailing his fingers along the orb as he walked around it.

"I conducted the ritual because my master commanded it. Using the _Khaverte d' Refero_ was the only way to control your Hero. The bond can be forged with a willing soul or a broken one. I willingly gave myself to my master, and thus our bond is a powerful one. I had to break your precious Hero before I could perform the ritual, and thus the bond he shares with me is weak and incomplete."

"_Once that mark is made," _Impa's voice suddenly filled my head, _"the dark energy consumes the victim and buries his soul in shadow… This shell still lives and breathes but acts only by the will of the one who cursed him."_

"How the bond is forged makes little difference," I argued softly. "The result is the same. You are a slave to your master's will."

"No!" I winced as his dark energy swept past me, like a gust of icy wind. "A servant and a slave are not the same," he snapped. "One may choose to serve, the other does not."

Inwardly I disagreed. _Not if both are victims of the Echo._

But I could not reason with him. Even without the curse controlling his every thought, the necromancer's undying loyalty had blinded him to Ganondorf's true nature. He would never understand that his master had taken him as an apprentice only to exploit his Sheikan abilities.

"Our souls were joined for life." the necromancer whispered. "After years of suffering, my master had given me a home, a purpose, even a name…"

His mismatched eyes met mine, shining with pride.

"…I am Nassir, apprentice and loyal servant to the great Lord Ganondorf."

I held his gaze but gave no reaction. I did not recognize the name.

"How do you know what happened to your master?" I asked him. "No one remembers the Imprisoning War, and no one could know Link's true identity, yet you seem to know that and more."

Nassir fell quiet a moment, studying the orb.

"Yes…" he murmured. "After those few precious years of apprenticeship, my master bid me to return to Tar Alem. He told me a war would soon ravage Hyrule, and he feared I would not be safe in the Fortress. As much as it pained me to part with him, I live only to serve him.

"I returned to my homeland. My master had told me to seek Hylian fugitives who fled Hyrule to study forbidden magic. I never found a teacher, but I continued to study on my own. I could no longer sense my master's presence in my mind, but I assumed he wanted his privacy. Years passed, and I began to fear my master would never send for me, that I had done something to displease him. Then, one night, he came to me in a dream."

Nassir turned to look at me, his eyes burning with rage.

"I heard him calling to me, though I could not make out his words. He seemed so far away, so out of reach… I woke with a fierce desire to return to Hyrule—to my master's Fortress—and I left immediately.

"But I was turned away," he hissed. "That vile, traitorous Nabooru banished me for my loyalty to our king. She sent me to rot in Tar Alem for the rest of my life, but I did nothing of the sort. I remained in Hyrule, searching for my master in secret. She claimed he was dead, but I refused to believe it.

"I found no trace of him," Nassir whispered, "not even a body to be buried. It seemed he had mysteriously vanished, but I knew he was alive somewhere. Still I had no choice but to return to Tar Alem and continue my studies in seclusion. I desired nothing but my master's return, and I devoted my life to finding him.

"Then, years later, my master came to me in another dream. He told me to seek out the old underground prison located on the edge of the Gerudo desert. He had used that place for his own research, and there I learned a great deal from his books. I conducted countless rituals, trying to call his spirit back to me… until finally I reached him. I felt his presence more strongly than ever, heard his voice in my head, just as I could before he sent me to Tar Alem…"

He clenched his fist so tightly his knuckles turned white beneath the black tendrils.

"He told me everything—how he conquered Hyrule and ruled for seven years during what you foolishly call the Imprisoning War. I learned I had served at his side, but everything fell to ruin when your cursed Hero appeared out of nowhere and woke the Seven Sages. I learned how you trapped my master in the Sacred Realm, never to return. I sought his revenge, but he assured me I could do better, that I could free him and restore his glorious rule. I have been following his instructions ever since.

"And now, at long last," he said, lifting his arms with a mad grin, "that day has come. Tonight, I will finally be reunited with my master!"

His passionate words brought another chilling wave of fear, and I fought to regain my voice.

"You are a miserable creature with an unfortunate past," I said quietly. "Had you any soul left, I might have pitied you. But you are nothing but an extension of Ganondorf, a tool capable only of carrying out his destruction. One way or another, you will die tonight."

"Die?" Nassir gave a short laugh. "Your Hero is Blood Bound to me—if you kill me, you kill him."

"I will free him," I replied, trying to appear unfazed. "From the Bond, from the Echo, from everything you've done to him."

Another laugh. "If that were possible you would have done it already," he sneered. "Am I wrong to assume you came all this way because his time has finally run out? You underestimate the power of the Bond," he murmured, stepping closer to me. "Just as you underestimate the power my master has lent me—the power I will use to destroy your Sages and your precious Hero."

He showed me his hand again, the one bearing the Triforce of Power's glowing emblem.

"Link won't come," I said, holding his gaze with defiance. "He's—"

I broke off suddenly, gripping my head as an intense pressure came over me. I quickly sank to my knees, crippled by pain and panic. Thankfully the feeling soon lessened, allowing me to catch my breath, but it did not cease. I had not felt such a pressure in a long time, but I knew exactly what it was.

_The barrier. _The Seal which kept Ganondorf trapped in the Evil Realm had been removed. Only the Sages' barrier held him back, and I knew he struggled to break through it. That was the pressure I felt. The pressure all the Sages felt.

There was only one explanation—the Master Sword had been drawn from the Pedestal of Time, dispelling the Seal and exposing the barrier. Only one man could have done this…

"He is what?" Nassir mocked. "Asleep? Yes, I sensed that. I forced him awake and gave him the strength he needed to reach me. Naturally he resisted, but I allowed it. I don't need to force him. You've already guaranteed his cooperation."

I closed my eyes, overcome with dizziness as countless thoughts crowded my mind. _But the toxin… How did he…? _Impa had left an antidote with Aveil, but if Nassir had interfered using the Triforce of Power, Link wouldn't have needed it.

_He aided him only to use him._

Of course Link had known. But he came anyway, to rescue me and Shayne from my mistake.

Tears burned in my throat as I bowed my head, overcome with regret. I had tried to protect my people and my loved ones, but I should have known it was impossible. _I always have to choose… _

Before I could succumb to self-loathing, the orb suddenly shone brighter, and my head snapped up to see two figures appear. Vasilis stood clutching the portal stone, and gripping his arm was the very man I had tried so hard to save. He stood tall and composed, the glowing Master Sword firmly grasped in his left hand.

"Link!"

Within seconds I had climbed to my feet and started toward him, but someone snatched my arm—just as Vasilis vanished from the room.

"Well, well," Ashton spoke, jerking me back, "it appears all the guests have arrived. Shall we begin?"

Link's eyes met mine, clear and amazingly calm despite everything. His relief at finding me unharmed helped him maintain his composure, but his demeanor radiated sorrow and defeat. He had not come to fight; he had come to surrender.

"Link, I'm so sorry," I pleaded, my voice shaking with sobs, "I never meant for this—I only wanted to protect you—"

Ashton's grip tightened on my arm. "Quiet," he hissed in my ear.

Link adjusted his grip on the Master Sword, itching to use it against Ashton, but his attention shifted as Nassir moved to stand before him. A flicker of surprise crossed Link's face as he studied his enemy's appearance, but otherwise he gave no reaction to his true identity as an Echo.

"I have brought the Sword as you asked," Link spoke, using his lower, more guarded tone. "Release her, and my life is yours."

Nassir merely smiled. "I'm afraid it isn't that simple. You see, I require your _complete_ surrender, and that will be quite impossible if I release her. You are a man of passion, a mortal capable of fear as well as courage. In the past months I've learned that desperation has a way of… weakening your resolve."

He moved to stand behind me, and I stiffened when his cold fingers closed around my neck. Slowly he lifted his other hand, and a snap of his fingers brought rows of torches flaring to life along the chamber walls. Within seconds the darkness had lifted, revealing a large but empty chamber.

"You have your arena," Nassir said. "Now you will fight the Vandelian, or your beloved queen suffers."

Ashton glanced at Nassir, then at Link, his initial surprise fading as a satisfied grin crept across his lips.

"_Excellent," _he breathed, releasing my arm and stepping forward. "I have waited too long for this." He lifted his sword and pointed his blade toward Link. "Come at me, _peasant_, so we may duel to the death."

Link's gaze remained cold and unreadable, but I knew how much the situation frightened him. Nassir obviously planned to wear Link down during the fight, forcing him to surrender to the Echo's influence. How could he possibly fight Ashton _and_ Nassir at once? Even without the curse, his weakened condition left him dangerously vulnerable.

I struggled against Nassir's grasp, longing to slash him with my dagger and break away. But I knew that was out of the question. It would only anger him, and any damage dealt to Nassir could harm Link through the Blood Bond.

The necromancer tightened his grip on my throat, cutting off my air while his other hand pressed against my abdomen. I tensed with a loud gasp and gripped his arm, ashamed and terrified of my helplessness.

"Fight him," Nassir repeated, "or the child dies."

My eyes met Link's, and I saw a similar terror briefly claim his face. In that moment we both knew—_there is no choice._

Tears stung my eyes as Link unpinned his cloak and pulled it from his shoulders, revealing a dark green tunic underneath. Then he cast the material aside in silent consent.

"That's better," Ashton murmured, assuming a fighting stance.

Nassir loosened his hold on my neck, letting me catch my breath. Angrily I shoved his other hand away, sickened by his touch. With a growl he snatched me again, holding me flush against him, and I stifled a cry of disgust.

"Struggle again," he growled in my ear, "and the child will die."

Then he released me, allowing some room between us as his fingers flexed around my neck. His free hand still hovered near my abdomen, ready to harm Shayne. Fearfully I obeyed him, unwilling to take any more risks.

Link and Ashton had begun to circle each other, one somber, the other eager. This was their first duel outside the battlefield, and neither would show mercy. Link normally fought with a cold, controlled approach, but Nassir had known this fight would be personal, that Link would struggle to keep his anger in check. Link was the superior swordsman, but Ashton was a formidable opponent, and with Link's poor health I feared for his life. His weak body would soon fail him, and the curse would prey on his desperation, consuming him as it had that night in the forest…

Ashton attacked first, closing the distance between them as he swung at Link's neck. Link caught the blow with the Master Sword, and for a moment the two stared each other down.

"This is it, peasant," Ashton sneered, "your chance to regain everything I've taken… And my chance to be rid of you once and for all."

Link shoved him back with surprising force, but Ashton responded with a series of quick attacks—which Link blocked or evaded. Their blades clashed again and again, their faces illuminated by the Master Sword's glow.

"I can't tell you how good this feels," Ashton hissed. "Ever since you were a scrawny brat you've been nothing but a nuisance—intrusive and destructive. You may have weaseled your way into royalty, but tonight I'll strip away everything you cherish. Soon I'll have your blood on my hands and your lover in my bed!"

He swung with deadly speed, slashing at Link's face. My eyes shut as I held my breath, bracing myself for that final, horrifying blow. Only when I heard the clash of steel could I exhale.

Again and again their blades met, emitting sparks before parting with a jarring _scrape_. Link remained on the defensive, letting Ashton expel his energy before attempting any attacks. But even his slower, more cautious movements had begun to take a toll. Already his breathing was labored, and his hair clung to the sweat on his brow. Ashton had also begun to show signs of fatigue, but his strength and speed still outmatched Link's.

Magic remained Link's only advantage, but to use it would mean sacrificing more energy, which he could not afford. He had not yet learned how to channel the Triforce of Courage at will…

Ashton's loud growl of frustration echoed through the chamber as he and Link sprang away from each other yet again.

"Stop toying with me and _fight!_" he shouted.

In his rage he lunged forward, whipping his sword up in a wide diagonal arc. Link saw it coming and thrust himself backward—

But he was too slow. The tip of Ashton's blade slashed across his chest and off his shoulder, staining his tunic with blood. Link cried out and stumbled back, his right hand pressed to the wound while his left blocked Ashton's unceasing attacks. I could see the Sword trembling in his hand, even across the room.

"Stop this!" I begged, barely remembering to keep still. "Ashton, _please!_"

My cries fell on deaf ears. A sinister grin clung to his flushed face; he knew Link could not last much longer. The Master Sword's blade caught his next attack, but Ashton forced both blades aside and kicked Link hard in the side. Link staggered back and dropped to one knee, winded from the blow. He managed to block Ashton's next attack, but the force knocked the Sword from Link's weakened grasp. It slid across the floor, out of his reach.

"No!" I shrieked. "Ashton, stop this—you've won!"

But winning wasn't enough for him. Before Link could even catch his breath, Ashton violently kicked him again, sending him to the floor. Link clawed at the stone tiles, coughing and gasping for air. Every labored breath betrayed the intensity of his pain, and I knew he suffered from more than Ashton's blows. I sobbed his name, knowing I could not help him, not while the necromancer held me in his iron grip.

"Finish him," Nassir ordered, tightening his fingers around my neck.

"With pleasure," Ashton grinned.

"No!" I gasped. My knees shook as I fought for breath, struggling to keep me upright.

Ashton snatched him by the hair and thrust his head back, forcing Link to meet his vicious gaze. He uttered something in him ear, hateful words meant only for Link. Tears streamed down my face as I desperately cried Link's name—

But Ashton never dealt the killing blow.

Time seemed to slow as he thrust Link to the floor and raised his sword high—when a powerful blast of energy sent him flying across the room.

I ceased my struggles, unable to believe my eyes when Link slowly sat up and climbed to his feet. His breathing had calmed, and he showed no sign of pain or struggle. I glanced at his hand, where the Triforce symbol shone through his glove.

Courage remained dark, but another piece flickered as he flexed his fingers.

_Power._

"No," I whispered.

Ashton scrambled to his feet and quickly retrieved his sword from the floor. I could see he was shaken, and he struggled to hide it with another taunt.

"Ah," he said, failing to hide the tremor in his voice. "So you have some fight left after all…"

Link's eyes did not leave him, even as his hand reached for the Master Sword. The weapon magically responded, lifting off the floor and flying right into his grasp. The Sword still recognized him as its Wielder, but its vibrant blue glow had significantly dimmed.

Link attacked first that time, charging with newfound vigor and slashing with impossible speed. Ashton barely managed to counter his constant movement. Twice Link cut him—once on his arm, the other on his cheek—but they were mere flesh wounds. Strands of red hair stuck to Ashton's glistening face, blending with the streak of blood. He struggled to keep his breath, but Link showed no signs of tiring. I watched in silence, stunned by the sudden turn of events.

Then suddenly, with an angry, frustrated cry, Link swung and cut through Ashton's blade, severing it in two. The broken blade clattered to the floor while Ashton stumbled back, clutching the useless hilt in both hands. Link lunged again, forcing a startled cry from Ashton as the Master Sword nearly sliced his throat.

_This is wrong… _

Ashton was unarmed, defenseless. Ordinarily Link would stop the fight and accept his surrender. The man I watched showed no intention of stopping.

"Link, stop!" I called, my voice hoarse. "He's lost; you can stop this!"

But he swung the Master Sword again, this time releasing a wave of energy. The magic struck Ashton square in the chest, knocking him flat on his back just a few paces away.

Slowly Link approached, looking down at him with cold, emotionless eyes—the same eyes I had seen that night in the forest.

"No! Link, don't—this isn't you!"

Ashton remained on his back, too stunned to defend himself.

"Kill me," I heard him stammer, "and your people will suffer."

Link gave no reaction as he stood over his long-time nemesis. Gripping the Master Sword with both hands, he raised it high above his head, ready to strike in cold blood—

"_Link, STOP!"_

The Sword halted in midair, its point hovering mere inches over Ashton's heart. Link paused a moment, his breathing labored as he struggled to process what had happened, what he had nearly done. Then slowly he lowered the Master Sword, shakily stepping away from Ashton. His wide, startled eyes found mine, and my heart lurched when I saw the black tendrils curling up toward them.

"Z-Zelda?" he whispered.

"Link," I breathed, tears streaking my face. "Darling, you've won… Leave him; don't let the darkness control you—"

I broke off when he suddenly cried out, gripping his head as the curse fought to reclaim him.

"_Link!"_

The Master Sword slipped from his hand, clattering against the floor as Link dropped to his knees. His pain overwhelmed him, rendering him completely vulnerable.

"FINISH HIM!" Nassir roared.

Ashton responded, sitting up and scrambling toward the Master Sword. Closing his hand around the sacred hilt, he released a pained cry—

And plunged the blade into Link's chest.


End file.
